


Bitchmas 2016

by lilinas



Series: Sebastian's Bitch [3]
Category: Glee
Genre: And I snuck some schmoopy feelings in there, BDSM, Bondage, Chastity Device, Cock & Ball Torture, Desperation, Dom Sebastian, Feminization, Ice Play, M/M, Master/Slave, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Predicament Bondage, Semi-Public Sex, Sounding, Spanking, Sub Kurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-09-03 17:01:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 25,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8721655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilinas/pseuds/lilinas
Summary: An Advent of kinky, kinky drabbles in the Sebastian's Bitch 'verse. The chapter title is the prompt word!





	1. Bow

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to add to my holiday stress this year by creating my own kinky Kurtbastian Advent to go along with the Klaine Advent I'm also doing! Because why not. I took prompts on tumblr and I'm still looking for good one-word prompts to add to my list if anyone wants to shoot me some! Meanwhile, I hope everyone enjoys the torture . . . I mean fun!

“Perfect.”

As usual, what was perfect to Sebastian was, from Kurt’s perspective, agony.

He moaned in response, which was all he could do with duct tape sealing his mouth. Sebastian wasn’t a fan of traditional gags. Too messy. And less fun to rip off when he’d had his fill of torturing Kurt in other ways.

“You should see yourself. You’re honestly like a work of art.”

A work of very perverted art, Kurt thought. He might have rolled his eyes if he wasn’t in too much pain to move. He knelt on their bedroom floor with his hands cuffed behind him. A chain attached to the cuff clip ran all the way to a hook in the ceiling, pulling his arms up and back until the stress made his shoulders burn. But if he lifted himself to give them some relief the talon clamps attached to his nipples and chained to the wall in front of him bit hard enough to make him cry out behind his tape gag. And if he leaned forward to ease the grip of the talons the pressure on his shoulders brought tears to his eyes. It had taken him forever to find the point of equilibrium, with his ass lifted off his heels and his back hunched forward, where the misery was equally distributed and almost bearable. And then Sebastian had slid the orange vibrator into his ass.

Kurt could only look down, so he had a perfect view of the pool of precome under his caged cock, now cloudy with dribbling semen. The vibe had been buzzing forever, holding him at the peak of most intense pleasure, the peak that would never break into release no matter how hard his cock tried to break through its prison. Every muscle in his body was tight as a bowstring and trembled with some combination of effort, pain, and unsatisfied desire.  He watched another blob of come ooze through the opening in the end of his cage and hard as he tried he couldn’t suppress a frustrated sob.

Then Sebastian’s hand stroked along Kurt’s bowed back and it wasn’t natural, Kurt thought, it couldn’t be, to crave someone’s touch even more than he longed for release from his suffering. He arched into the caress, whining as the clamps tightened on his tormented nipples. He pressed against Sebastian’s hand until he couldn’t bear the pain anymore then he fell forward – too far forward – he overbalanced and screamed as his shoulders took his full weight.

He screamed, but he didn’t hum “Happy Birthday” so Sebastian left him to struggle back to balance on his own.

“Careful, bitch,” Sebastian said when Kurt settled into position again. “They call it predicament bondage for a reason.”

While Kurt fought to catch his breath Sebastian caressed his back once more, but he kept going this time until his fingers reached the vibrator sticking out of Kurt’s ass. He pulled it out and fucked it back in once, twice, but before Kurt could give in to the (bad, so very bad) instinct to fuck himself back onto it Sebastian pulled it out all the way and replaced it with three of his fingers. His fingers were dry but Kurt’s hole was lubed so they slid in easily but Kurt whimpered as Sebastian stretched them wide. The desire to rock back was harder to suppress when it was Sebastian’s fingers. Sebastian inside him was everything he most craved and the thing that made all of his torment worth it.

“I’ll fuck you if you want, bitch,” Sebastian said, twisting his fingers and pushing a fourth into Kurt’s ass.

Kurt abandoned all dignity and whined behind his gag, pleading in the only way he could.

“But if we do it, it’s right here. Just like this.”

Kurt moaned, and his cock throbbed inside the cage. Just the thought of being fucked, pushed, rocked back and forth with body bound and clamped and shuddering in agony filled his eyes with tears. And the thought of his twisted, punished, denied body serving as the vessel for his master’s ultimate pleasure made desire burn hot in his balls.

“You’ve got to tell me, bitch. Do you want it or not?”

Kurt squeezed his eyes closed, held his breath, and pushed his ass up and out, forcing his body into an S-curve that managed to ratchet up the pressure on both his shoulders and his nipples at the same time. He forced himself not to scream again. He wouldn’t scream. If he screamed Sebastian might not fuck him.

Sebastian’s fingers backed out of Kurt’s hole and slid slippery over one ass cheek. “Good choice bitch.” Then the slick head of his cock pressed in, hard, fast, taking Kurt exactly as he wanted to, as if Kurt’s body wasn’t on the edge of breaking underneath him.

Kurt screamed.

Fully seated, Sebastian paused, letting Kurt’s muffled cry die away, giving him the tiniest of breaks before the real pain began. Giving himself a moment to repeat his assessment of Kurt’s predicament.

“Perfect.”


	2. Icicle

Kurt was hot.

Not just in the usual metaphorical sense. He was hot in the literal sense, flushed and panting with effort. Sebastian swore he could see shimmering radiation outlining every tightly stretched muscle.

Kurt hung from the ceiling, his toes just touching the floor. It was one of Sebastian’s favorite positions for torment. Suspension made Kurt feel especially helpless. His defenses broke down twice as fast without a way to ground himself. But there wasn’t anything about the position that should make Kurt sweat as profusely as he was.

The sweat was because of the glans ring. The vibrating glans ring that Sebastian had wrapped around his freed cock and left on the lowest setting against that ultra-sensitive spot just under the head. One hour, he’d decided. No breaks. And obviously no coming. An endurance test.

“Please . . .” Kurt gasped.

Sebastian let himself smile, since Kurt couldn’t see it anyway. He was blindfolded of course, because his cock was free.

The feverish flush had bloomed in his cheeks only minutes into the session. The moans came later, stuttered and dragged out at first, but falling into a continuous drone as he fought to hold back his orgasm. Sweat was last. It built as the minutes passed from tiny trickles down Kurt’s temples to his current state. Sebastian reached to push a lock of perspiration-heavy hair out of Kurt’s eyes. Kurt turned his head, blindly seeking Sebastian’s touch.

“Please,” he begged again.

“Please what, bitch?”

“I don’t think I can hold back.”

“Just think about how I’m going to punish you if you fuck up,” Sebastian suggested.

“That won’t exactly help.”

Sebastian laughed right out loud. Kurt had to be really far gone if he was willing to admit the thought of a brutal post-orgasm cock whipping turned him on even more. He picked up the remote and “rewarded” Kurt for his candor with a five-second burst of high speed. Kurt threw back his head and wailed, then slumped forward, panting, when the vibe clicked low again.

“Please . . .” he pushed out between gasps. “Help me. I don’t want to . . . please help me.”

That Sebastian was ready to do. He brought up his right hand, the one wearing a glove, the one holding the long, sharp icicle he’d cracked off a building on his bagel run that morning and hidden in the freezer when he got home.

“Lift your head.”

Kurt obeyed, and Sebastian rested the point of the icicle delicately on his bottom lip. Kurt started at the unexpected cold but his tongue reached forward, exploring, and he hummed a sigh when cold water dripped into his parched mouth.

“What is that?” he asked around the pointy intrusion.

“Help,” Sebastian said.

He pulled the icicle back and traced the point down Kurt’s neck. Kurt hissed and despite his overheated state gooseflesh rose in the path of the ice, along his collar bone, into the hollow of his throat, lower. Kurt pressed his lips together around a sound of protest when he figured out where Sebastian was going. But he was helpless to stop Sebastian from circling his nipple, around and around, then teasing the point of the ice back and forth over the nub.

“Oh God,” Kurt moaned. “That’s not helping.”

“Really?” Sebastian asked, all innocence. “How about this?”

He drew an icy trail down Kurt’s ribs, grinning again when Kurt’s stretched body tried to convulse against the tickle. He dipped the point into Kurt’s navel and held it there to melt until Kurt began to twitch from the burn. Then he went for his real prize.

Kurt jerked hard when the ice met the base of his cock.

The icicle was long enough that Sebastian could circle the end around and around the base of Kurt’s cock. He twirled it there for a while, then began to spiral up, drawing an icy backfire against the heat of Kurt’s passion.

“Fuck, please, oh God, _please . . ._ ”

“What are you begging for now, bitch? I’m trying to help.”

The icicle slipped up Kurt’s shaft, around the vibe and over the top. Kurt cried out when the bright cold stung the head of his cock but his exclamation died into breathless silence as the point teased at his slit. His hips twitched backward.

“Hold still,” Sebastian commanded.

Kurt obeyed. Kurt always obeyed. Sebastian pushed the tip of the icicle into Kurt’s slit, not far, just enough to make him whine again. He was trembling now – involuntary shudders that even his stretched position couldn’t check.

“Please . . .” he whispered yet again.

Sebastian didn’t know why he bothered to beg. He knew his master was going to do exactly as he pleased. He fucked Kurt’s urethra gently with the burning point of the icicle. It was melting faster now and Sebastian guessed it was the freezing water, dripping and trickling down the inside of his cock, that made Kurt’s body jerk in tiny, rhythmic contractions. His whining fell into tempo with them and Sebastian kept going, until he heard the particular, familiar note in Kurt’s voice that meant he was truly nearing the breaking point.

Reluctantly, he pulled the icicle back and away. He raised it to Kurt’s lips and this time Kurt suckled it like a hungry child, tiny grunts escaping the back of his throat as he licked at the melting ice.

“Do you still feel like you’re about to come?” Sebastian asked, close to Kurt’s ear.

“No, Master,” Kurt breathed.

The _master_ told Sebastian everything he needed to know. He picked up the remote again and clicked the vibe one setting higher.

“Awesome. Then you should be good for at least another hour.”

Kurt wailed again. The sound chased Sebastian as he headed out to the kitchen to get the icicle into the freezer. He was pretty sure he’d be needing it again long before the hour was up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Safety tip: It should be obvious that none of this is sanitary! Please don't suck on icicles you find hanging off buildings in New York City. And definitely don't stick them in anyone's urethra! ;)


	3. Hooked

Kurt never bothered to question why he craved the things he craved. Not anymore. In the beginning he had. At thirteen, fourteen, his masturbatory fantasies had taken so many unexpected turns into darker and darker corners that he had eventually tried to give up jerking off altogether. He’d wait for days, sometimes a whole week at a time, until his screaming hormones couldn’t be denied any longer. Then the humiliation of not being able to control himself would add to the force of his twisted fantasies until he exploded in unbearable pleasure and the whole cycle started over again. (And was it any wonder he’d ended up with such a powerful chastity kink?)

For years every sexual encounter he had was guaranteed to include that moment of disappointment when the thrust wasn’t rough enough or the slap hard enough. When partners whispered endearments instead of barking commands. _Sweetheart_ instead of _bitch._ And he’d accepted it for so long – too afraid of the unknown to seek out what he truly desired.

It seemed so silly now. Especially at this exact moment, when he was being fucked through the mattress by the man who’d given “sexual fulfillment” a new meaning by taking it away altogether.

On his knees and forearms on the bed, with his hands cuffed together and clipped to the headboard, Kurt arched his back and pushed his ass higher. Behind him Sebastian fucked into his hole and out again in a quirky, lopsided rhythm: a long slow pull out followed by a sharp, violent thrust in. The sweet spot inside Kurt was by turns caressed and pounded and the combined sensations left him alternately purring and growling with pleasure.

His cock was free. That was a rare and precious exception to Sebastian’s normal rule. Even after years together Kurt could count the number of times he’d been fucked without the cage on the fingers of one hand. But today was special.

“Fuck, bitch, you’re so tight. How do you stay so tight with everything I put this ass through?” Sebastian’s thrusts gave extra weight to random words as he spoke.

“Natural . . . bottom?” Kurt panted from below him.

“That must be it. God, you feel so good. I’m going to come so hard.”

But despite his promise Sebastian stopped, seated deep in Kurt’s ass. He leaned forward and draped himself over Kurt’s back. He did that a lot. He loved to feel Kurt’s denied body trembling against his own. Warm fingers wrapped around Kurt’s heavy cock and squeezed vise-tight. Kurt moaned and rocked his hips up and down, begging for more.

“Does it turn you on knowing that I’m going to come harder just because you can’t?” he whispered against Kurt’s ear.

“Yes.” Kurt always told Sebastian the truth.

“One whole year.” Sebastian gave Kurt’s cock a stroke, just one. Then he rubbed his thumb across Kurt’s slit in a gentle caress. “How do you like your chasti-versary present?”

Kurt only moaned.  The sweet, rare pleasure of Sebastian’s touch stirred up too many emotions. They blocked Kurt’s throat with unshed tears. It was probably just as well. He was too far gone to summon the words it would take to express the enormity of his need for this. Sebastian’s conquering cock in his ass. Sebastian’s controlling hand on his aching dick. Sebastian’s evil, perfect words in his ear. Sebastian.

“Maybe in another year I’ll let you come. Or maybe I’ll tell you I’m going to and then tie you up and ruin it. Make you wait two more years for another chance.”

A shudder ran down Kurt’s body. “Please,” was all he could manage. Protest and prayer in the same six letters.

Sebastian chuckled. Kurt felt it against his back. “Beg me –”

“Please . . .” Kurt obeyed before Sebastian even finished.

“Beg me to come inside you.”

Kurt rocked his hips again. “Please. I . . .” He stopped himself before he could say the forbidden word.

“It’s okay bitch. You can say it, this once. Consider it part of your present.” Sebastian’s body lifted away and his cock slid out until only the head breached Kurt’s hole. Then he waited.

“Please, please come inside me . . .”

“Come on, bitch. Say it. Just one time. Tell me why I should fuck you and torture you and tease this cock until you think you’re going to die.” Sebastian’s thumb circled, teasing delicious fire. “Tell me why I should keep you horny and desperate while I come over and over and over and –”

“I need it!” It erupted from Kurt with the force of a long-suppressed cry. A release almost as powerful as the orgasm Sebastian taunted him with. “I need it! I need it! Fuck me, please, let me make you come, I need it, I can’t live without it . . .”

He kept babbling as Sebastian pounded him, fast and brutal, his fist a punishing constriction around Kurt’s cock. The intensity made it easier, as it always did, as Sebastian always knew. “I need it, I need you, please, only you, please let me, I need to, take me, God yes . . .”

Sebastian shuddered to a stop and Kurt broke his litany long enough to cry out with the power of his – no Sebastian’s, Sebastian’s orgasm. They collapsed together onto the bed, both trembling now, but the words once released didn’t want to be restrained again. “I need it,” Kurt panted into the pillow, Sebastian’s cock in his ass, Sebastian’s hand on his dick, Sebastian’s scent all around him, Sebastian. “I need you. I need it. I need you.”

And Sebastian’s evil, perfect words in his ear. “Don’t you ever fucking forget it.”


	4. Bough

The porch swing was seriously comfortable. Sebastian pushed it lazily with one foot while he sipped his iced tea and enjoyed the view. The sun shone brightly through the surrounding forest, dappling the trees and ground cover with hundreds of tiny spotlights. They dappled Kurt too, as he moved through the oaks and elms and whatever else was out there, completely naked save for his cock cage. Sebastian watched him and congratulated himself on his brilliance. The cabin had cost a pretty penny to rent, even just for a weekend, but he’d known even before he’d seen all the dungeon gear inside that it was going to be worth every cent.

Kurt paused in his search to glance around, furtively, like he suspected someone might be watching. Sebastian smiled. The property was completely secure and private. But he hadn’t bothered to tell Kurt that.

“Don’t dawdle,” he called out. “It’ll only be worse if you do.”

That was a total lie. It was going to be excruciating not matter what. They both knew that. Still, Kurt’s shuffling steps through the underbrush seemed to speed up.

Sebastian hadn’t planned to start their vacation with a punishment, but he was nothing if not flexible. Kurt had known he was in trouble the moment he’d said “This damned cage . . .” as he squirmed to get comfortable on the rough ride to the property. His own mortification at his slip had been written all over his face. Sebastian, on the other hand, had been thrilled. He’d been trying to decide whether he wanted to take a slow approach introducing Kurt to all the cabin had to offer, or go the rip-the-bandage-brutally-off route. He didn’t at all mind having the choice taken out of his hands.

He had given Kurt a choice though. Or the illusion of one. He could select the instrument of his punishment.

Sebastian rocked and sipped and watched as Kurt picked up a fallen tree branch. He turned it over in his hands, weighing it. The branch was thick and heavy, Sebastian could see, and the leaves still attached to it were brown and dry. He leaned forward to watch as Kurt contemplated it.

He would use the bondage bench, Sebastian thought, if Kurt picked that one. Tie Kurt down and beat his ass and thighs while Kurt squirmed and bucked against his bonds. The heavy stick would force deep, grunting cries from Kurt’s chest with each stroke. It would leave dark bruises in parallel lines that would last for days. He would cry, Sebastian knew. Heavy beatings always made Kurt cry and when Kurt had paid for his crime Sebastian would fuck him right there, while he cried, he’d fuck him so hard, smacking into his punished ass with every bit of force he could muster. Sebastian was almost vibrating with anticipation as Kurt picked at the few dead leaves attached to the branch. But then his head turned, like something had caught his eye, and he dropped the heavy stick and bent to root in the underbrush again.

He came up with a stick that was much thinner than the first. Sebastian caught his breath as Kurt began to strip off the bright leaves that clung to it. He could see even from where he sat that this branch was green and flexible. It would bend and bounce and sting like fire. Oh, if Kurt picked that one, Sebastian thought, he’d string him up from the vaulted ceiling by his ankles and winch his legs apart as far as they would go. Then he’d use the switch to whip Kurt’s balls, his hole, and the tender space in between. Kurt would whine, sharper and higher each time the switch fell. Sebastian never got tired of those pleading whimpers. The switch would raise delicate welts on Kurt’s vulnerable flesh, and make every fuck for days an exercise in agony. When he was done he’d raise Kurt up higher and fuck his mouth while he hung upside down, fondling his tortured balls, maybe pushing a dry finger into his welted hole just to feel Kurt try to scream around his cock.

Both scenarios were so tempting Sebastian couldn’t decide which he wanted more.

Kurt, who was probably trying to decide which he dreaded less, stared from the thin branch in his hand to the thick one at his feet.

“Stop stalling bitch,” Sebastian called.

Kurt gave one more furtive look around and made his choice. Then he turned and walked back to where Sebastian lounged on the porch. He climbed the steps and knelt on the pine boards, holding out his offering, his legs spread and his cage lifting and dropping as his cock tried in vain to get hard.

Sebastian’s cock, without the same impediment, pushed impatiently against his jeans. He wondered, as he tried to catch his breath, whether Kurt would ever stop surprising him. He reached out and took the heavy stick from Kurt’s left hand, the green switch from his right.

“Now _that’s_ my bitch.”


	5. Scarf

“You need to take better care of yourself.” Sebastian tsked like a mother hen as he fluffed Kurt’s woolen scarf and settled it more firmly around his neck.

“I’m fine.” Kurt made sure his voice was stripped of inflection. He wasn’t allowed to complain, even by tone. He stared straight ahead, over the heads of the crowd arrayed in the stands below them, past the field where geared-up football players grappled at each other, to the other side of the stadium where more fans stomped and cheered.

“Please. You’re shivering,” Sebastian said, giving the scarf a pat before turning back to the game.

Kurt wasn’t shivering. He was _trembling_ , and Sebastian knew that as well as he did. After all, Sebastian was the one who had stuffed the vibrating plug up his ass and strapped the bullet to his cage before bundling him up in an overcoat big enough to hide any . . . emissions . . . that hours of constant stimulation might cause.

Inside him the ass plug sped up. Punishment, no doubt, for even that tiny token protest.

 _I know how bored you get at sporting events_ , Sebastian had said, oh so sincerely, as he wrapped the scarf around Kurt’s collar and tucked it into his coat to hide the chains. _I just want to make it more interesting for you_. Then he’d grinned in that way that made Kurt want to slap him and worship at his feet.

He’d read somewhere that if you were in a big enough crowd it was like being all alone. Kurt hoped that was true. He was bringing out every bit of acting skill he possessed but he was sure people around him must be getting suspicious. He’d cried out the first time the vibes had driven him to that excruciating non-peak of what passed for orgasm for him. And now, with the added speed in his ass, he could feel it building again. Evil, deceptive pleasure that felt so real, that teased him with _possible_ when there was no such thing. It built in waves in his balls; they tensed in anticipation, eternally optimistic, as if this time maybe, maybe, they’d get to push him to completion. They should have known better. Kurt certainly did. Around him the crowd noise went fuzzy as the pain of reality trickled into his pleasure. He pressed his lips together, determined not to cry out this time, and waited, forcing his body still against every instinct, forcing himself not to rock down on the plug and make it fuck him properly.

He felt warm wetness ooze from his cage. That and the sudden rush of dizzy frustration were the only signs of his “orgasm.” The only way he’d would have known that he’d come.

The vibes didn’t give him any time to recover. They buzzed away, tireless.

Sebastian turned back to Kurt and reached for his scarf, using Kurt’s trembling as a pretext to adjust it again. As he spread the wool over Kurt’s neck he slipped his fingers underneath and plucked at the tight chain that connected the nipple clamps to Kurt’s collar. Kurt moaned and pressed his head to Sebastian’s – he couldn’t help it, he needed the touch, the reassurance of Sebastian’s strong body.

“That was number two, wasn’t it?” Sebastian asked, close to Kurt’s ear.

Kurt could only nod. And whimper when the vibes sped up another notch.

“Tell you what, bitch,” Sebastian whispered. “I’ll give you a five minute break . . . every time the Jets score.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't resist that little joke for the Jet fans!


	6. Slip

It never would have happened if it wasn’t for the writhing.

Sebastian never got tired of watching Kurt writhe. They had a bondage sack, and just the sight of it made Kurt’s cock drip like a rusty faucet, but Sebastian hardly ever used it. He just couldn’t deny himself the sight of Kurt stretched out on the bed, twisting and squirming as he tried to process the pain Sebastian gave him. He moved like no other submissive Sebastian had been with. He didn’t contract to absorb pain, he stretched, like he was trying to dilute sensation by spreading it out along his long limbs. His head would fall back exposing his graceful neck, making the tendons stand out with effort. He rarely jerked or jumped, his body flowed across the sheets like he was riding waves. It was graceful as fuck and it made Sebastian hard as iron.

He reached for the dial on the little black box and cranked it up one more setting.

Kurt whined and stretched further as the electrodes attached to his balls and glans sent an extra dose of electricity coursing through him. His cock stood up tall and hard, of course. After seven months of chastity, any stimulation was going to leave him diamond-hard, and Sebastian had the box set on a wave program. The ebb of the wave sent pure pleasure through Kurt’s dick and balls, enough that he probably could have come from it if the intensity didn’t then steadily increase until it peaked at _too fucking much_ , or at least that’s what the noises coming from Kurt’s throat sounded like. Sebastian loved it. He loved the gradual climb of Kurt’s voice from rumbling pleasure to whimpering pain and back again. He loved the flush that suffused Kurt’s naked body as it rocked between extremes. And he so loved the elegant, exquisite writhing.

God help him if Kurt ever left him, he thought as he reached for the Hitachi wand. His boasts the night they’d met had proven true in every way. As a submissive, Kurt had no equal.

Sebastian thumbed the vibrator to its lowest setting and touched it to the head of Kurt’s cock, just above the electrode ring. Kurt’s ass flexed and his mouth fell open on a breathy sob. With the blindfold on Sebastian couldn’t tell for sure, but he would put money on the fact that Kurt was crying. Of course he was. Seven months.

They were going for nine. Kurt’s longest denial yet.

The muscles in Kurt’s face clenched in concentration, fighting his body’s push toward release, but Sebastian had it completely under control. On the lowest setting the vibe wasn’t strong enough to overcome the pain of the electro peaks. It pushed Kurt closer to that edge, but it couldn’t take him over.

“You can hump it if you want,” he said.

Kurt’s head turned blindly toward his voice and his mouth opened, moved, but no words came out. He didn’t want to hump the wand, Sebastian knew. It would only make his torment worse. But he’d do it. He couldn’t help it.

Kurt’s head fell back in defeat, his neck stretched long, and he shuddered and began to thrust against the head of the wand. He moaned as he tried to fuck it, begging for more or maybe for mercy, wordless.

Sebastian watched, waiting, rubbed at his own erection just to ease the pressure. Every sense attuned to Kurt’s frequency, waiting for the perfect moment, just before it all became truly too much for Kurt to endure. Waiting for the sound . . .

And there it was – the electro peaked and Kurt went stiff and his moan stuck in his throat coming out in a painful grunt that was more forced than offered. Sebastian grinned and switched off the electro and the vibe at the exact same moment, leaving Kurt suddenly and brutally bereft of all sensation.

Except – Kurt’s body stretched even more and his head shook violently from side to side and “No! God, no, please, oh Goooood . . .”

He convulsed and wailed and came like an exploding hydrant. His angry balls clenched so hard that semen spattered the wall above his head, Sebastian _heard_ it hit, spurt after spurt. Sobs tore from Kurt’s throat and it slowly dawned on Sebastian that the vibe was still running. Faster. He hadn’t turned it off at all. He’d turning it up to high.

Oops.

Kurt was crying in harsh shudders as he came down from his unauthorized orgasm. Sebastian pulled his blindfold off. Cloudy gray eyes swimming with tears and questions he wasn’t allowed to ask opened and tried to focus on Sebastian.

Sebastian made sure to look very, very severe. He was much too good not to be able to fake his way through this. “What the fuck was that bitch?” he asked sharply. “Did I say you could come? Did you even bother to ask?”

“N-no,” Kurt managed to stammer. He was still crying. Sebastian wasn’t sure if it was from the relief, the disappointment, or the fear. He pressed a hand to Kurt’s chest, just over his nipple. There was no tension left; Kurt’s body was limp as a wrung out rag. He managed to turn his head though, and catch Sebastian’s eyes with his own.

 “Sorry . . . master . . .” he panted, fuzzy and far away.

They both knew that Sebastian had fucked up. And they both knew that it was Sebastian’s prerogative to spin it any way he liked. And to fuck Kurt from behind while he knelt on the bed and licked his come from the wall. And then mete out a nice excruciating punishment. 

"Oh, you will be."


	7. Green

“Fifty!”

Kurt collapsed to the concrete floor before the echo of the last wallop faded. The floor was hard but warm, and Kurt pressed his cheek into the radiant heat. Applause smattered around them.

His whole body hurt. Sebastian had been showing off as he worked Kurt over with the heavy strap. Shoulders, ass, thighs, even the soles of his feet. They all throbbed with hot pain. His balls hurt worst of all. They hadn’t taken many of the strap’s blows, but Sebastian had made every one count. Kurt squirmed to find a better position before he remembered the other reason his balls hurt. They were chained tightly to the wall behind him. He gasped, and his arms strained against the cuffs that bound them at his back.

Sebastian’s hand fell heavy and reassuring onto the untouched skin between Kurt’s burning shoulders and ass. Kurt’s body responded like a switch had been flipped. He settled into his kinky child’s pose even as his brain quailed at what Sebastian could possibly have in store for him now.

“I bet he could take a few more,” someone said.

“I know he could,” Sebastian responded and Kurt felt pride warm his chest at the words. “But he’s earned a break.”

Sebastian’s hand lifted away.

Voices started up around them now that the show was done. Kurt listened to the shuffle of feet and the clink of glasses and the slamming of his heartbeat in all the parts of him that Sebastian’s strap had abused. If he could let go enough he’d drift away from the pain and actually get a rest. He needed it.

“ . . . sure you want me to do that?” Sebastian’s voice cut through the fog in Kurt’s head.

“He’s been begging me for weeks,” someone else said. “Ever since he saw you whip Kurt with it that time. I told him if he wore his cage for a full week I’d ask you. So thank you for an awesome week and yeah, I’m sure.”

Kurt opened his eyes. The world was sideways and not quite in focus but he could see a young dom standing close to Sebastian, smiling. A sub knelt at his feet. A stunningly beautiful naked sub. He was built like a dancer and the graceful tilt of his bowed body made Kurt want to cry at his own inadequacy. Although that might also still be the pain.

The dom held out a narrow leather whip. Sebastian’s back was to Kurt so he couldn’t see his face, but he imagined his eyes flitting from the braided tail to the beautiful submissive on the floor. He imagined a predatory grin blooming on Sebastian’s face. And right on cue Sebastian said, “Why not? Since he was such a good boy . . .”

Something inside Kurt roared at those words.

Sebastian took the whip from the other man and let it fall so that the tail dropped to the boy’s back. The roaring got louder.

As he moved behind the other sub Sebastian dragged the tail down his body like a caress. Kurt closed his eyes and pressed his lips together to force back the protest he was sure he’d be punished for.

“Hold your cheeks open, Bruce,” the other dom said. It sounded more like a suggestion than a command. Still, the sub moaned – a sound heavy with desire – and Kurt opened his eyes just in time to see Sebastian’s arm pull backward.

“Master!”

Kurt’s heart sped up as Sebastian paused looked at him. One eyebrow arched up, waiting.

“Please,” Kurt panted, his cheek still pressed to the floor. “Don’t.”

Sebastian’s face shifted into the vicious grin Kurt had imagined him giving the other sub. It expressed more eloquently than words that Kurt’s punishment for this was going to be exquisite. But he stepped past the kneeling sub and ignored completely the boy’s whine of protest. That alone was worth whatever price Kurt had to pay.

Sebastian dangled the whip in front of Kurt’s eyes. “This thing’s going to beat someone’s hole tonight.”

“Mine,” Kurt pleaded. It would be agony but nothing could be worse than watching his master beat the beautiful sub. Nothing.

Sebastian was still smiling down at him. “I already beat you. Why shouldn’t he have a turn?”

“Doesn’t . . . belong to you.” Four words in a row left him gasping against the floor but Sebastian knelt down close to him instead of turning back to the other.

“Is someone jealous?” Sebastian grinned.

Oh, Kurt was in so much trouble.

“If you want me to whip you instead of him you’re going to have to earn it.” Sebastian stood up again and laid the whip on the floor a few inches from Kurt’s head. “Pick it up and it’s yours.”

The inches might as well have been miles with Kurt’s balls chained behind him. _That’s impossible_ was something he wasn’t allowed to say, so he whined instead.

“Your choice, Kurt. Pick it up. Or you get to listen to him scream for me instead.”

Kurt held his breath and lunged. The chain pulled taut before he was halfway there, and shoving himself on his chest made his balls bounce against it, but he pushed on, desperate and determined. Pain lanced through his scrotum and his caged cock. His growl of effort graduated to a shout but he forced himself that last inch, until his teeth closed around the handle of the whip. Then he fell back and collapsed again, panting hard around the leather he held tight in his mouth.

At a tug he released the whip into Sebastian’s hand. Sebastian cracked it in the air as he moved behind Kurt again. “You’re so going to regret this,” he said.

He was right, Kurt knew. But he could hear disappointed whimpers from the beautiful submissive. He turned his face down into the floor. He had just enough time, before he started screaming, to smile.


	8. Jingle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This hasn't died! Yes, I realize we're staring at Valentine's Day, but I'm on the alternative calendar in which it's still Advent! Much like Lord Dampnut, I create my own reality . . . ;)

Harem Night was genius. Sebastian had been skeptical at first, but now, reclining on the long, low couch watching a lovely blonde slave in the shortest of tunics bend to pour his wine, he wanted every night to be Harem Night.

From somewhere behind him came the tinkle of bells that told him Kurt was performing the same duty as the blonde slave for someone else. On Harem Night all slaves served all masters and Kurt was definitely a crowd favorite tonight. Everyone knew Sebastian was a jealous master and Kurt was normally strictly off-limits. So no one wanted to miss this chance. He’d been stroked and prodded and pinched since the moment they arrived. Anything truly sexual had to be negotiated in advance and Sebastian hadn’t even entertained the possibility, but Kurt didn’t know that. Sebastian smiled as Kurt’s bells jangled. The sound stuttered, loud then soft, as if Kurt was lurching from place to place with none of his usual grace. Typical, Sebastian thought as he kneaded the blonde slave’s exposed ass. Of everything he made Kurt do, this was always the hardest. Kurt would happily fall to his feet and lick Sebastian’s boots (as he had while they were getting ready, and the shine was magnificent) but ask him to so much as pour wine for a dominant he hadn’t personally deemed worthy, and he struggled for the tiniest bit of equilibrium.

As the blonde slave moved away to another table – with a very provocative ass wiggle, Sebastian thought, he’d totally punish the boy for that if he was his master – Sebastian decided he’d let Kurt struggle enough.

“Kurt!” he called. The bells jangled sharply, then settled into rhythm as Kurt appeared at Sebastian’s side and dropped to his knees.

Sebastian had spent way too much money on Kurt’s decorations. But it was worth every penny. All the other slaves were dressed in some version of the blonde’s tunic. Kurt was the only one who was completely naked. Unless you counted the chains. Kurt clearly didn’t count the chains. He looked as flushed and shaken as he had while Sebastian was affixing them.

Custom-made chains of tiny jingle bells draped Kurt’s body, highlighting every curve and bulge. Two connected his collar to the jeweled nipple clamps that adorned his chest, and two more led from the clamps down to the ring Sebastian had tightened just under his glans. The glans ring was heavy enough to drag Kurt’s beautiful cock down almost parallel to the floor, pulling it tight against the clamps. The glans ring was a match for the cock ring nestled at the base of Kurt’s dick. No less than four belled chains connected the two, making every twitch and bob tinkle merrily. And because Sebastian liked his creations to be pleasing on all sides, two more chains connected the back of Kurt’s collar to the base of the butt plug Sebastian had made him wear.

People were staring. Sebastian understood. Kurt was about as gorgeous a sight as anyone in this club was going to ever see. Head bowed, red with humiliation, struggling so hard to endure – he was everything anyone could want in a submissive.

“Look at me,” Sebastian commanded.

Kurt lifted his head. The chains from his collar sounded as they pulled tight. Panic tinged the edges of his eyes.

Sebastian sighed again, loud enough for Kurt to hear, pretending a displeasure he didn’t feel at all. He picked up the black crop he’d brought with him. The head of Kurt’s cock was a perfect bulging target. Sebastian smacked it with as much force as he could muster. Kurt didn’t cry out – didn’t even move except to curl inward around the pain. His hands stayed perfectly still on his thighs. Sebastian rewarded him by teasing the tongue of the crop across the head of his cock, back and forth, until panic receded in the face of Sebastian’s dominance and Kurt’s eyes dropped shut to enjoy the stimulation. It had been months, after all, and when Kurt was desperate like this the smallest touch could bring him to the edge. Even with people watching he couldn’t fight the overpowering instinct to seek his release. After only a few strokes he began to thrust, humping the tongue of the crop, and Sebastian allowed it until he sped up enough to be in serious danger of coming. Then he whipped Kurt’s cock hard again. Kurt’s eyes flew open and he was surprised enough to cry out this time. Sebastian gave him two more whacks, then landed one on each of his nipples, rocking the clamps and making Kurt cry out again.

“Who do you belong to?” he asked.

“You Master,” Kurt said without hesitation.

“Who’s the only person you need to please tonight?”

“Only you, Master.”

Sebastian leaned forward and ran his fingers down the chains that connected the nipple clamps to the glans ring, coaxing a musical shudder from his boy. “And what’s the only thing that can please me?”

Kurt stared at him. Sebastian would normally have reprimanded him for hesitating, but he could _feel_ Kurt reaching out, gathering strength from his assurance. So instead he wrapped a hand around Kurt’s shaft and squeezed, pressing links of chain and bells into Kurt’s oversensitive flesh until he gasped and choked out, “Perfection. Master.”

Sebastian let Kurt go and leaned back on his couch. “Then I suggest you start showing me that. Unless you’d like to sleep in this getup tonight.”

“Yes, Master.”

Now _that_ was how Sebastian expected Kurt to sound. The panic around his eyes was gone now, chased away by pain and discipline and Sebastian’s command.

“So get going.”

Kurt rose smoothly and turned toward the bar, where trays of hors d’oeuvres waited to be circulated.

Sebastian closed his eyes again and listened to Kurt move, all gentle tinkling and graceful rhythm.

“Do you need anything Sir?” Another slave appeared at his elbow, pulling Sebastian out of his reverie.

“No, boy,” Sebastian said. “Everything’s perfect.”


	9. Exchange

Kurt closed his eyes.

“Oh, no, bitch. None of that. I want to watch you enjoy your reward.”

Of course he did.

He opened his eyes to find Sebastian’s face close, his mouth . . . oh God his mouth . . . pulled into his trademark challenging smirk. “That is, until the soul-crushing frustration sets in.”

“Sebastian . . .” But Kurt couldn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t even know how to begin.

Sebastian leaned closer and pressed his lips gently to Kurt’s. His tongue . . . fuck, his tongue . . . flicked against Kurt’s bottom lip and his hand slid down Kurt’s bare back to caress over the swell of his ass. Kurt’s cock thickened against the bars of the cage but before he could even moan about it Sebastian stepped back, still smirking, damn him, and pulled the chain from around his neck. He held Kurt’s eyes, deliberate, letting the key dangle between them as he slowly sank to his knees in front of his submissive.

“Sebastian . . .” Kurt tried again, with no more success than before.

“Come on, bitch. I know you want this.” He reached for the cage, working the lock as he spoke, slipping it off Kurt’s touch-starved cock. “You deserve it. You were stellar last night. You exceeded even my expectations.” Kurt couldn’t take his eyes away from Sebastian’s lips, the full bottom one, so soft, the peeks at his tongue as it shaped his words. “Now whether you can _stand_ it, only you can answer that. It’s completely up to you. You could just stand there until I get tired of waiting, then I’ll ice you down and lock you back up, no harm, no foul.”

As the cage came away Kurt’s cock unfurled from end to tip, comically, he thought, like one of those spiral horns kids blow at parties. Being upright and unlocked was still new enough that Kurt swayed and had to grab at the wall behind him for balance.

Sebastian set the cage aside and grinned up at Kurt. “It would be a shame though. I mean, who knows when I’ll give you another chance to do this? I’ve got a pillow here,” he waved a hand at the cushion he was kneeling on, “so you can go as long as you can stand it. I’ll even put my hands behind my back, so you can really pretend you’re in charge.”

“Until the soul-crushing frustration.” There wasn’t enough air in Kurt’s lungs to get the words out; he could barely hear himself. But Sebastian laughed.

“Just because I want to reward you doesn’t mean I’m abandoning all my standards.”

“God forbid.”

“Is that a complaint?”

Kurt stared down at Sebastian’s soft lips, glistening tongue, so close to the throbbing tip of his cock. “No. I’m just . . . thinking.”

“You think too much bitch. Just do it. Fuck my face.”

Tears filled Kurt’s eyes because he was going to do it, of course he was going to do it, and it was going to kill him but before, before the _soul-crushing frustration_ , it was going to be rapture.

“You know,” Sebastian went on, casually, like Kurt wasn’t trembling above him with tears running down his cheeks, like he wasn’t on his knees offering unbearable ecstasy, “one of these days I’m going to pierce this pretty cock. Then I can lock the cage through the piercing and I have to tell you, that’s so fucking hot I may never take it off. You should really be afraid of how much that turns me on. You’d never get hard again, never get to feel a hot mouth around your . . .

Kurt moaned and shoved his hips forward, to shut Sebastian up, to just get it fucking over with, to feel . . . dear God, Sebastian’s mouth, sucking, and he grappled at the wall as his ravenous cock met wet, sucking heat, slid deep into perfect pleasure. And then he was gone.

Sebastian was right of course. It wasn’t about orgasms at all. The real reward was control, the right to seek his pleasure, and direct it. It didn’t matter that it would never come to completion. Sebastian knew as well as Kurt did that in the deepest parts of him he wanted to be denied. He craved it. The gift was to let him torture himself, and make him acknowledge that that was what he was doing.

He rocked back, slowly, so slowly, then thrust forward into the heat that surrounded his cock, touching every tiny nerve ending, overwhelming it with the pleasure it had craved for so long. Slowly, he had to make it last, he had to endure as long his body would let him because nothing had ever felt this good, nothing would ever feel this good again. His orgasm was right there, of course it was, it had been weeks in the cage with no stimulation and so many months since Sebastian had allowed him to come, but Kurt pushed it back and reached deep inside for the strength to endure. He shouldn’t even be doing this, it was going to kill him to stop, but he slid over that gorgeous, hot tongue again and again, riding the edge like he was burning himself alive from the inside out. Then Sebastian’s tongue flicked quick as lightning over the head of his cock and into his slit and the world went gray and the air rushed from his lungs with a groan and his eyes fell closed . . .

Thick, heavy pain shoved its way past Kurt’s pleasure and his eyes flew open again to find Sebastian, mouth still full of Kurt’s burning cock, raising an admonishing eyebrow up at him. One hand clenched hard around Kurt’s balls.

Of course.

“I’m sorry,” Kurt panted. “Please don’t make me stop. Please. I’ll keep my eyes open, I promise. Please let me . . .”

One more squeeze, a warning, Kurt knew, then Sebastian’s hand went behind his back again and Kurt slid forward, slowly, savoring the dance of Sebastian’s tongue along his shaft and the challenge naked in those green, green eyes.


	10. Wrap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be perfectly honest, I wrote this when I was just a little drunk. Like, now, I mean. But I'm posting it anyhow because why not! Hopefully it's somewhat coherent!

Sebastian pounced.

It was too bad, really, that Kurt was asleep and therefore unable to fully appreciate the extent of his stealth and speed. But there was no help for it. He’d taken extra pains to be silent as he positioned the old blanket just so over Kurt’s sleeping body. And it was worth it.

He slid his arms under Kurt’s body and rolled him fast, all the way around, three hundred and sixty degrees across their wide bed, encasing Kurt in a tight blanket burrito that was held closed, inescapable, by his own weight.

The roll woke Kurt up, as Sebastian had intended. But before his higher brain could come online far enough to remember that his self-respect demanded at least token resistance to the things his body craved, in that first nanosecond of finding himself tightly bound neck to foot, Kurt breathed a sigh that dripped with contentment. Sebastian watched him like a hawk. He loved that look so much – when Kurt let himself enjoy what they did without any self-conscious editing. It was something he usually only saw after hours of concentrated effort, when Kurt was too exhausted and strung out and turned on to keep up his façade. Or in moments like this, the rare times he managed to catch Kurt completely off-guard.

Of course, it _was_ Kurt Hummel wrapped up in front of him so a nanosecond was all Sebastian was going to get. And right on cue Kurt’s eyebrows came together over eyes no longer sleepy. “What . . . what’s going on?” he asked.

“Just having a little early-morning fun,” Sebastian said with a smile.

Kurt squirmed, testing the blanket’s hold. “Um . . .” He made the face that Sebastian knew meant he needed to say something, but he was afraid that saying it might only give Sebastian more ammunition to torture him.

“Um?” Sebastian asked, all innocence.

“Is there . . . any chance . . .?”

Oh, how Sebastian loved this. When Kurt had no idea whether he should speak or not, Sebastian knew he’d done his job well. “Let me guess. You need to piss.”

Kurt flushed a fiery red. It had been two full weeks since Sebastian had upgraded to the cage with the urethral plug – his new favorite toy – and Kurt was still horrified by the idea of having to ask permission to relieve himself. So far he only managed to overcome the humiliation when he was especially desperate.

Kurt squirmed again, but Sebastian had planned well. He wasn’t going anywhere. “Please. I really have to –”

“Not a chance.” Sebastian reached for the long-handled scissors he’d left on his bedside table. “You’re just going to have to hold it until after I finish my little craft project.”

When he saw the scissors, alarm replaced embarrassment in Kurt’s eyes. “Are those my –?”

“Your fabric shears. Yes. But you can relax bitch. Fabric is all I’m cutting.”

While Kurt watched with wide eyes, Sebastian felt for the caged cock under the blanket. He pinched the cotton over the cage and carefully snipped a circle wide enough to accommodate Kurt’s cock and balls, then held up the shears again. “See? I know how important these are to you. I wouldn’t dream of mistreating them. Unfortunately, I can’t say the same for your balls.”

Sebastian put the scissors down and reached for the other item on the table. The acrylic ball-crusher had been custom-made to fit around Kurt’s dick with the cage attached. Kurt didn’t test the blanket again. He held perfectly still and grey-blue eyes watched with stormy intensity as Sebastian extracted his private parts from the hole he’d cut in the blanket. Sebastian smiled as he cradled Kurt’s dick. The flesh swelled between the bars of the cage. All this time, and still Kurt couldn’t quite conquer his morning erection. Something else to be grateful for. Sebastian was having so much fun that he whistled a little tune as he screwed the sections of the vise together then slowly tightened the top and bottom portions until Kurt’s balls pressed white against the clear acrylic panels. When Kurt’s lips pressed tight with the pain Sebastian left off and moved instead to unscrew the cage’s plug.

Kurt’s body went stiff inside his blanket prison. “No, please . . .”

Sebastian knew that Kurt knew just how much he couldn’t resist the plug. He’d already tormented Kurt with it over and over again. Kurt’s eyes fluttered closed as Sebastian pulled the insert out until only the very tip brushed his slit, then pushed it back in. The noise Kurt made when Sebastian fucked his cock with the plug was completely new, something Sebastian had never heard before and something he was sure he’d never get tired of hearing. He gave Kurt thrust after thrust, tickling his urethra, reminding him of the relief his body needed, until he was whimpering with real desperation. Then he screwed the plug back into the end of the cage and turned to the ball crusher.

Two turns, four, six. Kurt moaned and writhed against the improvised bondage, but he was well and truly trapped. Who needed expensive bondage gear, Sebastian asked himself. No. The only question here was how many twists of the vise it would take to break through Kurt’s defenses and bring back that look of contented peace. He wondered if it would happen before Kurt’s bladder gave out. Not that it mattered, he thought as he reached for the plug again. It was Saturday. He had all day.


	11. Understand

“ _Please . . ._ ”

Kurt stopped himself, or more accurately he heard himself stop. There was no decision. He wasn’t capable of that level of thought anymore. It was pure instinct. Begging was forbidden.

“Poor bitch.” Sebastian didn’t touch him but he was near, and when Kurt was blindfolded like this Sebastian’s voice was almost as good as a touch. “Would it be easier if I’d let you beg for mercy?”

“I don’t know.” Answering Sebastian’s question was instinct too. Sebastian expected it, so he responded. Simple as that.

Something soft but sharp-edged stroked up the hard length of Kurt’s cock. He moaned and pulled at the cuffs that bound his limbs to the four corners of the bed. He didn’t have much slack to shift, just enough to jostle the vibrator in his ass, changing the sensation, not less or more but _different_ , and combined with the stimulation of his erection it was enough to leave him gasping.

“Do you know why I don’t let you beg like that?”

The tip of the sharp soft thing brushed the slit of Kurt’s cock in an intimate tease that made it impossible to speak. His tormented brain finally recognized it. It was the feather. The long, soft, sharp feather that Sebastian had acquired God knew where, from some demon bird, obviously, because the way it could change – breathtakingly soft across the head of his cock, scraping hard as a dull knife down the side of his shaft, sharp as a switch when Sebastian beat his balls with it – could only be attributed to black magic.

“Because I hate lying,” Sebastian said, not bothering to wait for Kurt’s answer this time. His voice was closer to Kurt’s ear and the stroking feather left his cock and appeared instead at the base of one clamped nipple, suddenly sharp and poking.

“I don’t . . . understand,” Kurt managed to give the words enough breath to be heard.

“You don’t want mercy. Not really. And what kind of dom would I be if I let you beg for something you don’t want?”

 _You make me beg for what I don’t want all the time,_ Kurt considered pointing out. But he knew even as he thought it that it wasn't really true. And before he could speak fingertips touched the base of his straining dick, soft as a dream, and moved upwards with excruciating slowness, and Kurt was lost in contemplation of how they were going to feel brushing over his aching, swollen head.

“ _Sebastian . . .”_ It was whimper, plea, benediction.

“Remember what you told me the night we met? You said nobody ever pushed you. What you really meant is nobody ever understood you. But I do, bitch. I understand you completely.”

The vibe buzzed in his ass, teasing Kurt with the orgasm he was never allowed to have, and the clamps tortured his nipples, and Sebastian’s fingers tickled his cock head until he couldn’t breathe but still, always, it was Sebastian’s words that pushed him the hardest.

“I understand,” Sebastian whispered, close now, near Kurt’s ear and he turned his head, seeking, “that no matter what you _say_ , deep down you want me to keep going. You may beg for mercy, but in that dark place inside you it’s the very last thing you want. I know exactly what goes on in that kinky brain. I know that no matter how badly you want me to stop or let you come, there’s always a part of you praying that I won’t. And the more desperate you are, the louder that part gets. So don’t worry bitch. I've got this. I’m going to take you just as far as you want to go. And then a little bit farther.”

The vibe cranked higher, the fingers teased harder, the feather flicked hot pain over one nipple then the other. Overwhelmed, by words, by touch, by his own helpless and powerful desire, Kurt arched up off the bed, his body struggling to drive himself over an edge he was never going to reach. And there were a million words in his head but when he opened his mouth only one found its way out.

“ _Please . . .”_


	12. Naughty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Schmoop alert!!

Sebastian loved this. More than he would ever admit to Kurt. More than he was maybe willing to admit to himself. But lying in the dark, naked together, their limbs wrapped around each other, lips teasing lips, tongues brushing heat, half-voiced whimpers and moans coming from one throat or the other . . . okay, yes, it was poetic to a sickening degree. He’d be the first to admit that. But there was an intimacy to it that was different from all the other kinds of intimacy he and Kurt engaged in. It was singular. It transcended the structure of their dynamic. It made Sebastian feel . . . things he wasn’t quite ready to examine in the light of day.

They’d been busy – Kurt was shepherding no less than three looks from page to runway for the studio’s latest line and Sebastian had spent every day of the past two weeks buried in the mind-numbing tedium of mid-term grading – so they’d had no time for sex, really, beyond the occasional teasing grope or quick fuck. But finally they had a whole weekend to themselves. Sebastian knew Kurt had expected to be grabbed and dragged to bed the moment he came through the door Friday afternoon, but he hadn’t expected to be stripped, laid out, and kissed . . . and kissed . . . for minutes that ran into hours. Sebastian hadn’t expected it either, to be honest, but with Kurt finally _his_ for more than ten minutes at a stretch he found that all he wanted to do was wrap himself up in tastes and smells and yes, those pretty, pretty whimpers.

It was warm in the bedroom but Sebastian didn’t care. Kurt had one arm under his head and the other around Sebastian’s chest, and Sebastian cradled Kurt’s jaw in one hand, slipping his thumb along the soft skin of Kurt’s cheek as their mouths made love to each other, sharing breath, and Kurt’s poor caged dick rocked gently against Sebastian’s semi-erection.

Rocked . . . Sebastian pulled his mouth away from Kurt’s – there was a tiny pop as the suction broke – and opened his eyes to find Kurt giving him _that_ look, eyes peeking up under fluttering lashes, mouth pulled into a faux-contrite twist.

“What was that?” Sebastian asked. He really did try for severe but he was too sleepy-content to make it stick. “Are you allowed to hump me like that?”

“I’m sorry.” Kurt’s eyes were dark and sleepy with kissing and the late hour. “ _Master_ ,” he added, deliberately breathy.

Sebastian had to suppress a moan. Kurt in this mood was a rare, beautiful treasure. It only ever happened in quiet, dark moments like these, and Sebastian could count them on the fingers of one hand. Kurt’s playful embrace of his submissive side, with no conflict, no need to be pushed – it turned Sebastian on more than anything else. It made him feel like Kurt did this for _him_ , Sebastian, and not just because of the dominance. And he wanted that. He could admit it. He never doubted that he was the dominant who deserved Kurt. But the jury was still out on whether he was the man who did.

He had no time for deep thoughts, though, with Kurt in his arms giving him that look. “You’re being very bad,” Sebastian said. But he smiled, trying to extend the mood. “If you keep it up I’ll have to punish you.”

“That would be tragic,” Kurt teased.

“It just so happens that I don’t want to punish you tonight. What I want to do is make out with you for another hour or so, then let you blow me, then sleep the sleep of the truly satisfied. You can remember what that feels like, right? True satisfaction? If you think back far enough?”

“I don’t have to think back. Master.” Kurt closed the tiny distance between them, pressed his lips to Sebastian’s, then licked across Sebastian’s bottom lip, so brazen and provocative that Sebastian felt it all the way down to his toes. “I feel that all the time.”

Sebastian held Kurt still and kissed him properly; he had no choice, really. Kurt, like this, was breathtaking.

The cage rocked again, rubbing deliberately against Sebastian’s cock. “You’re going to be in so much trouble,” he breathed against Kurt’s lips.

This time it was Kurt who pulled back, but not far; Sebastian could feel warm breath on his skin. “I have an idea.” He leaned in again and nosed along Sebastian’s jaw, breathing his scent and still humping against Sebastian’s hard-on. “How about you let me blow you tonight, then tomorrow you can spend all day punishing me. Master. So that _I_ can sleep the sleep of the truly satisfied.”

Sebastian rolled on top of Kurt; he couldn’t help himself when Kurt talked that way. Kurt’s sigh said _finally_ and _thank you_ and _Master_ all in one breath, or maybe that was just in Sebastian’s head, he didn’t much care one way or the other. Just like he didn’t much care that in the morning tonight’s heady teasing would disappear and Kurt would suffer his punishment with his trademark prickly challenge.  All that mattered was this Kurt. Sleepy, kiss-rumpled, playful Kurt. Smiling up at Sebastian and still fucking his cage against his body.

“Fuck,” he said, rocking back hard, “even when you’re bad you’re perfect.”


	13. Nice

At least, Kurt thought as bonds tightened around his body in ten different places, brushing up against all his most sensitive spots (which after simmering in erotic frustration for months on end was honestly anything between his hair and his toenails), at least this time he had someone to blame. Usually when he ended up in this kind of position it wasn’t due to anything more than Sebastian’s whim of the moment.

“Oh, I’m going to be nice,” Sebastian was muttering, more to himself than to Kurt although he kept looking up from his work to spear Kurt with a look so dangerous it made Kurt’s belly spin like a demented ballerina. He wanted to beg to be kissed until he couldn’t breathe, devoured by the intensity that was burning through Sebastian’s normally perfect control. “I’m going to be so nice you’re going to beg me to stop. Over and over and _over_.” He punctuated the words with pulls on the rope he held, stretching Kurt’s arms up higher toward the ceiling, tugging him tight against the straps that secured the rest of him to the bondage frame.

Tony D’Terra. That’s whose fault it was. Kurt still didn’t know exactly how it had happened. Maybe Tony’s attention had been caught by the way Kurt had trembled as he knelt on the hard floor at Sebastian’s feet. Kurt had no idea. He’d been too busy dying of humiliation but humping the sole of Sebastian’s shoe anyhow. His cock had been free but trapped in the tightest of leather shorts with a rubber ring around the base keeping him strictly in check. The _you could but you can’t_ dichotomy had had Kurt on edge and dizzy with arousal all night, so when Sebastian offered the slick sole of his expensive loafer there was no way Kurt could resist it, even in public with dozens of people openly staring.

Tony, though, was the only one who approached. Kurt, through his pleasure-drunk haze, could see the warning in Sebastian’s face when he looked up from the spectacle Kurt was making of himself. Of course, Kurt had no idea what Sebastian was looking at. Not until a pair of arms wrapped around him from behind, startling him so badly he almost tumbled over, and hot, boozy breath tickled his ear.

“Fuck, Sebastian! You’re so mean to him. You don’t have to torture him every minute of the day you know. He’s so perfect. You should be nicer to him.” Tony nuzzled against Kurt’s neck, which felt amazing despite Kurt’s mounting alarm. Sebastian had gone still as a statue. Daggers shot from green eyes toward the pair of them and Kurt trembled harder because he knew that look.

“You should take your hands off him,” Sebastian said in his quietest, most gentle, pleasant voice. Kurt was terrified of that voice.

Tony was definitely drunk, because he didn’t take his hands off Kurt, instead, motivated by some self-destructive impulse Kurt couldn’t fathom, he pinched Kurt’s jaw between his fingers and his thumb and lifted Kurt’s head like he was offering it to Sebastian as a present. “Look at that face! He’s so beautiful. Don’t you think he deserves a break once in a while? Honestly, do you ever let him come?”

Sebastian had turned his daggers on Kurt then, like he expected Kurt to say something, but Kurt was so shocked and scared and turned on – he realized he was _still_ humping Sebastian’s loafer, despite everything – that he couldn’t figure out what he was supposed to say.

“He doesn’t want to come,” Sebastian said, not taking his eyes off Kurt.

Right. That.

Sebastian took his shoe away and stood up and he was still looking at Kurt – humping air now – and Kurt knew he was the one who was going to pay for all of this. In flesh. With outrageous amounts of interest. He moaned and fell forward because Tony must have let him go, and because his balls were clenching so hard he was afraid he might come even with the cock ring. He didn’t hear what happened between Sebastian and Tony after that. He put his fingers in his ears to block it out. Sebastian that publicly possessive was sure to send Kurt over the edge he was trying to claw his way back from.

Tony D’Terra. That’s who Kurt had to thank for this predicament. And a not-so-small part of Kurt did want to thank him. Although most of him was just terrified of the agony to come.

“You aren’t going to believe how fucking nice I’m going to be,” Sebastian snarled as he dragged the thing that Kurt called “the contraption” into place.

The contraption was a device some demented friend had created for Sebastian. It resembled a microphone stand, but with radiating arms and clamps for attaching whatever Sebastian’s little black heart desired. Today it desired the Hitachi vibrator with the ribbed cock sleeve and, barely an inch above that, the electric flyswatter.

Kurt closed his eyes in a vain attempt to stop tears from leaking down his face. They leaked anyhow. Sebastian ignored him in favor of slipping his cock into the sleeve, adjusting height and angle just so, and turning the vibe onto a nice middle-of-the-road setting that Kurt knew from experience was going to drive him insane.

It was so _good_ , gently massaging the head of his cock. Kurt had fucked the sleeve often enough to know the ribbing would feel like heaven sliding over his sensitive head. He pressed his ass back into the frame. He wasn’t going to thrust, he couldn’t. It didn’t matter how tempting the embrace of the sleeve was. He knew what kind of pain was waiting for him at the end of that thrust. He was going to stay perfectly, perfectly still. No matter what.

Without warning Sebastian’s lips took his, rough as broken granite. It was the kiss Kurt had craved and he forgot everything and fell into it with eager abandon. He kissed back just as violently, offering his mouth and his body and his very soul to Sebastian’s anger. He kissed and whined and the vibe stroked his starved dick, egging him on, and it was all too good, no one could have resisted it. His ass slipped away from the boards and rolled the head of his cock across the soft ribbing of the sleeve and it was _perfect._

Sebastian’s kiss swallowed his scream. The ropes and straps absorbed the twist and shudder as electricity burned his slit. His ass smacked the frame and tears fell anew. Sebastian’s lips lifted away and his fingers brushed through the wetness on Kurt’s cheeks.

“I’m going to be so nice,” Sebastian breathed it like a threat, barely louder than the whimpers still coming from Kurt’s throat, and Kurt wasn’t sure he could survive much more of Sebastian’s nice. “I’m going to let you come, bitch. If you can. After all, Tony thinks I should let you. And apparently you agree. So go for it.”

Kurt stared into Sebastian’s eyes and begged as hard as he could, silently, the only way he was allowed. He couldn’t do it. He’d never be able to come. No matter how close he managed to get the pain would drive him back and even if he did managed to overcome it the orgasm would be ruined in the most agonizing way possible and who the fuck knew what would happen when semen flooded from his dick over the swatter’s electrical field, and the vibrations were already soothing the pain, enticing him forward; it had been forever since Sebastian had let him come and he fucking _wanted_ it and Sebastian’s fingers drifted down to pluck at his nipples and fuck that was so, so good . . .

Kurt was more prepared this time, fortunately, because he had to swallow his own scream.

“Please,” he managed to pant once his teeth stopped chattering.

“Oh no, bitch. No begging. What you should be doing is thanking me,” Sebastian flicked a button on the side of the vibe, cranking it up to high, “for being so fucking nice.”


	14. Rehearse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I may be pushing the definition of rehearse slightly, but who cares?! ;)

“Relax, bitch. Don’t worry. We’ve got all night to practice. We’ll just keep going until you get it right.”

If the symphony of gasping almost-sobs was anything to go by, Sebastian’s words didn’t do anything to reassure the man writhing on his bed. Even just three weeks into whatever they were calling this relationship, Sebastian knew exactly how much Kurt hated to cry. He’d been whipping Kurt’s cock for a little over half an hour, in carefully spaced sets of five vicious lashes each, and only now was Kurt beginning to break down. Everything was a fight with Kurt, and he still hadn’t figured out that the harder he fought, the more determined to conquer him Sebastian became.

Kurt was blindfolded, with his hands bound to the headboard of course, that was Sebastian’s standard rule when his cock was free. Although “free” was a relative term. Sebastian had restrained Kurt’s dick and balls on an isolation board, held down with just one rubber band around the shaft. Kurt had whimpered when he’d realized what his organs were being maneuvered into. He knew exactly what the board meant. This wasn’t their first practice session. Eventually, when Kurt mastered this, Sebastian would be able to do it without the board. But for now it was safer to keep his cock isolated and his belly protected.

Kurt’s legs, however, weren’t bound at all. At the moment they were crossed at the knee, twisted together in a futile attempt to protect his tortured dick. Sebastian slapped one inner thigh with the heavy leather strap he held and a moan spiked through the background drone of Kurt’s distress. “Spread those legs, bitch,” he ordered.

He loved to watch Kurt fight with his own body. The slow uncrossing of his legs telegraphed anxious reluctance – Sebastian didn’t need to see Kurt’s eyes to know how badly he didn’t want to spread his legs – but at the same time clear fluid dripped from his hard cock onto the board, adding to the damp stain that gave away his arousal. “Wider bitch,” Sebastian said, punctuating it with another slap just to make Kurt’s cock drip more. “Remember I know exactly how flexible you are.”

Sebastian grinned as Kurt’s legs stretched wider. He stroked his fingers lightly over the marks that burned red on Kurt’s pale inner thigh. Kurt shuddered at his touch, then whined as his fingers moved higher, closer to Kurt’s groin, to his poor desperate cock.

“Please,” Kurt breathed as Sebastian caressed past the board and up over Kurt’s abdomen.

“What bitch?”

“Please touch me.” It was hard for Kurt to say. The blindfold couldn’t hide the line of effort between his eyebrows. Or maybe he was just trying to remember if he was allowed to beg for that.

“I am,” Sebastian said. He dragged his fingers down again, past Kurt’s bound cock, just to make his point. He knew what Kurt wanted. And the temptation to tease and edge was strong. But Sebastian had larger goals and he was sure his patience would pay off in the end. He caressed up to Kurt’s chest and rubbed his thumb over one hard nipple.

Kurt sighed and his body went lax as pride surrendered to need. “Please touch my dick. God, just once.”

Finally! Sebastian had to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. It was the first time Kurt had directly asked since they’d signed their contract. Sebastian had a very strict slave-training plan, and starving Kurt’s cock was its cornerstone. For weeks he’d been winding Kurt up with kisses, touches, teasing his nipples, his ass, fucking him long and slow until Kurt sobbed with pleasure, but all with his cock locked tight in the cage. When it did come out, like now, it was purely for torment and pain. All part of the master plan.

“You know I’m not going to do that,” Sebastian said. “You haven’t come close to earning it. As evidenced by the fact that you’re thinking about yourself instead of thinking about how you can do better for me.”

“I am. I’m trying,” Kurt insisted.

“Good. Because we’re about to try again. Five strokes. Don’t move.”

Kurt’s body tensed; Sebastian could see determination in the press of his lips. He cocked his arm and brought the strap down hard on Kurt’s dick, right at the root of the shaft. Kurt gasped but held still. If anything his legs stretched even wider, like he was forcing himself to stay open, presenting. Sebastian struck again, on Kurt’s balls, then sharp and devastating on the head of his cock, right over the slit, and again just below it. The fourth lash drew a cry from Kurt’s throat but still he didn’t move. He might actually make it this time, Sebastian thought, so he aimed the fifth, unexpectedly, up under the board in that sensitive and so far untouched space between Kurt’s scrotum and his hole. Kurt voiced another cry, tinged with surprise and denial this time, and his muscles bunched, pulling his legs closed and pushing his dick up in the air in a half-thrust before he could force himself still again. Then the cry turned to a growl of frustration as Kurt realized what he’d done.

“Oh! Too bad, bitch. I thought you were going to make it this time.”

“That wasn’t . . .”

“What?” Sebastian goaded him. “Wasn’t fair? Is that what you were going to say?”

Kurt had learned enough not to go there, at least. “I . . . didn’t expect you to . . .”

Sebastian wrapped his fingers around Kurt’s scrotum and squeezed just enough to be a threat. “Do I accept excuses, bitch?”

“No.” The tone of protest lingered in Kurt’s voice, but his body was starting to relax again so Sebastian let it go.

“And do I accept anything less than perfection from my slave?” He let his fingers loosen, rolled Kurt’s balls in their sac in the way he already knew made Kurt weak-kneed with desire.

“No.” It was softer this time, gentling.

“And how do you achieve perfection bitch?” Sebastian left Kurt’s balls and moved up to pinch a nipple with gentle delicacy.

Kurt exhaled on a tiny hum. “Practice,” he said, still quieter, the final sibilance dragging out longer than it should as Sebastian teased his nipple.

God, he was responsive. Sebastian still hadn’t gotten used to how quickly Kurt could slide into pliant obedience when the right buttons were pushed. So to speak, he thought with a smile and a final tweak of the little bud. “Then don’t you think we’d better try again?” he asked.

“Yes, Master.” Kurt turned his head toward Sebastian, as if he could see, and with a deep sigh spread his legs as wide as they could go.


	15. Games

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why but this one was a bitch for me. Appropriate, I guess! I knew what I wanted to do but it would NOT come out of my head. So finally I capitulated to the "try alcohol" solution. I drank two cocktails (super yummy ones with gin, lemon juice, and raspberry liqueur) and just forced the fucker out of my head. It may suck, but if it does I don't even care because gin, lemon juice, and raspberry liqueur.
> 
> Hopefully this kick-starts me again to finish these freaking things!

 “Pair of kings!” Sebastian crowed.

Kurt stared down at his hand. No matter how hard he looked, a pair of aces failed to magically appear. He sighed, dropped his losing hand on the coffee table, and scooted across the floor toward the box of toys.

It was a stupid idea. And the fact that his dick was hard at the moment didn’t make it any less stupid. His dick was hard because of the cock ring and the butt plug, not because he thought playing strip poker just moments after signing their contract was anything like the proper way to start their new . . . venture together.

“I’d go with the nipple clamps,” Sebastian said.

Kurt glanced backwards. Sebastian reclined on the couch with casual insouciance, like he had no idea how frustrated Kurt was that they were playing cards right now instead of . . . _playing._ At least he was almost naked. Aside from his briefs, which bulged enticingly Kurt had to admit, he only had one sock left to shed. Kurt, on the other hand, had started the game totally naked. By Sebastian’s rules, only dominants had to shed an article of clothing for each lost hand. Submissives started out naked and had to put on something when they lost. Something from a box of toys Sebastian had gleefully provided. A box Kurt stared down into now for the third time.

He wanted the nipple clamps. He chose the ball gag, opening his mouth wide and biting down while he bucked it around his head, which he held high as he turned back to the coffee table and folded his knees under himself.

Sebastian grinned, picked up the cards, and shuffled.

 _You want to play what?_ Kurt had asked as Sebastian had deposited their contract – the product of three days of negotiations – in a desk drawer. He’d been waiting what felt like his entire life for this moment. He was ready to be taken, driven, pushed. Instead he’d gotten . . .

Three sixes. Kurt stared at his cards. Three of a kind. Thank fuck. The only interest he had in this game at the moment (his cock be damned) was getting to finally see what Sebastian was hiding inside those briefs. He’d signed up to worship a dick he’d never laid eyes on. It was time to change that. He just had to get rid of the damned sock first.

“Ooh, nice!” Sebastian said when Kurt showed his cards. He grinned like there was nothing he’d rather be doing than this. Kurt tried to make a face at him but the ball gag ruined the effect.

Sebastian reached for his sock, but then he paused, eyes twinkling. He uncurled his legs and stood up, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his briefs. He paused to let the anticipation build and Kurt really wanted to act like he couldn’t care less whether Sebastian stripped or not but who was he kidding? He needed to see that dick, like yesterday.

Then in a move that shouldn’t have been graceful at all the briefs dropped and Sebastian’s cock stood thick and hard and gorgeous and Kurt congratulated himself for choosing the gag so that he could tell himself _that_ was what had him drooling.

Sebastian didn’t buy that for a second, of course. Kurt could tell from the look on his face as he and his stupid, lovely penis settled back on the couch and picked up the cards. That was another of Sebastian’s rules. Only dominants dealt. Kurt sighed. Through his nose. He couldn’t even see the pretty cock with Sebastian seated and the coffee table in the way.

 _It’s an excellent way to get to know someone,_ Sebastian had said as Kurt hovered trembling on the edge of everything he’d ever wanted and still didn’t seem to be getting. _Not that you have any choice._ He’d cocked an eyebrow in the direction of the drawer their contract resided in. Well, at least that was hot.

Kurt picked up his five cards. Nothing but crap.

Sebastian smiled at his own hand. “Let’s up the ante,” he said, staring at Kurt over five kaleidoscopic bicyclists. “I forgot to tell you the cage came today.”

Kurt sucked air through his nose and his dick throbbed.

“So I’m thinking, if you win I’ll let you blow me and then I’ll ice you down and lock you up.” Sebastian said. “And If _I_ win I’ll fuck you, but I lock you up first. How does that sound?”

It was such an about-face from pairs of kings and shuffling and endless hands of cards getting in the way of his deepest desires that Kurt had to catch his breath (through his nose) before he could get his brain to function.

“And I’ll throw in the nipple clamps too,” Sebastian said. “If I win.”

Sebastian lay his cards on the table. Also crap. Nine-high crap.

Kurt had a jack.

He wanted to get his mouth on that cock. He wanted to know how it tasted, to feel its weight on his tongue, to throb hard and painful and unsatisfied as he coaxed Sebastian’s cock to completion. He absolutely wanted that. And he had a jack.

But . . . he stared at Sebastian and worked his teeth into the gag . . . to be fucked. Caged and fucked. Caged and clamped and fucked and thrown into the deep end with no practice round, no easing up, caged and clamped and fucked and his dick throbbed in time with the rhythm in his head.

Kurt tried to look disappointed. He was pretty sure he failed. But he lay his cards face-down on the table anyway and shrugged an _I fold_.

Sebastian understood immediately. His eyes went black so fast Kurt suspected he might be hallucinating it. But they also sparkled much more understanding than Kurt was comfortable with. “See what I mean, little bitch?” he said in a triumphant tone Kurt was sure he’d be hearing so much more of in the future. “An excellent way to get to know someone.”

Kurt found he couldn't disagree.


	16. Cane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still alive! ;)

_Tap, tap, tap._

Kurt stood naked in the middle of the bedroom, arms stretched high above his head and secured to a hook in the ceiling. Sebastian circled him slowly, threateningly, at least it would have been threatening if Kurt hadn’t been blindfolded.

_Tap, tap, tap._

There was no doubt Sebastian loved the way Kurt writhed when he was bound to the bed. But nothing beat the sight of his lean muscles pulled taut and trembling and sweating with the exertion of a difficult position. And the easiest difficult position was to simply string Kurt up from the ceiling until his toes barely brushed the floor. Sebastian always appreciated when limited effort generated sizeable reward. Of course in Kurt’s case, _limited effort_ was a relative phrase.

_Tap, tap, tap._

Sebastian kept circling, a shark scenting blood, tapping the new cane on the oak floorboards as he went.  The cane was acrylic – solid and heavy and without a doubt harsher than the rattan model Sebastian usually used. It was going to teach Kurt new definitions of pain.

_Tap, tap, tap._

Kurt was blindfolded but not gagged. Breath escaped his lungs in a shuddering rush that opened into a whine at the very bottom of the exhale. Sebastian grinned.  Breaking the illusion of control Kurt clutched onto so desperately was his greatest pleasure. A pleasure that was only achieved through the greatest effort, but worth every bit of it.

He stopped behind Kurt and moved close. They weren’t touching, but gooseflesh rose on Kurt’s back as he sensed the change in Sebastian.

“I can hear you thinking bitch,” Sebastian purred, so close to Kurt’s ear. Kurt’s head turned, seeking him, but Sebastian leaned back, denying him touch. “ _Come on, asshole,_ ” Sebastian intoned, “ _just hit me already._ Am I close?”

Kurt made a slightly louder noise, a non-committal non-answer. Prudent, Sebastian supposed, but Sebastian didn’t allow prudence.

“Tell me what you’re thinking, bitch,” he commanded.

“I’m wondering what you’re waiting for,” Kurt murmured, more air than voice.

Sebastian grinned again. He could also hear Kurt chastising himself for not managing to sound more sarcastic. “I’m wondering what _you’re_ waiting for,” he countered.

“I’m waiting for you to hit me,” Kurt said, louder this time, with an edge that was half frustration, half bravado.

_Tap, tap, tap._

Kurt flinched – well, as much as he was able to flinch in his restricted position. Sebastian let himself laugh and Kurt flinched again. “And now we have a problem,” he said, carefully casual. “Is that what you should be waiting for?”

There was a long silence while Kurt considered. Sebastian watched as a bead of sweat swelled at the base of his neck and rolled slowly down the column of his spine. He wanted to trace it with a finger. He wanted to lick it away and feel Kurt shudder under his tongue.

_Tap, tap, tap._

“No.”

It was so quiet Sebastian almost missed it. Almost.

"Really? What should you be waiting for?”

“Nothing," Kurt said and the cage around his dick lifted in a tight throb.

Like lightning Sebastian swung the cane around and up, landing it with a heavy whoosh and thwack on the underside of Kurt’s ass. Kurt cried out loud and swung free as the force of the blow rocked his body forward.

Sebastian very considerately waited for Kurt’s toes to find the floor again before he spoke. “And what should you be _thinking_ about?”

“Nothing?” Kurt asked, panting, and his ass flexed tight, anticipating a blow that didn’t come.

_Tap, tap, tap._

Sebastian watched as a perfect thin welt darkened the pale skin of Kurt’s ass, then he circled once more, coming in front of Kurt and lifting his chin with the end of the cane until his neck was straining back. “No, I know that brain of yours too well to ever expect it to be empty,” he said. “So tell me what you should be thinking.”

With his head tilted up Kurt’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. But Sebastian didn’t move away. Kurt was still panting from the blow and his words came out in broken phrases. “That I’m always . . . exactly . . . the way you want me to be.”

Sebastian moved again, fast, swinging around Kurt and striking, landing the cane hard on the swell of Kurt’s buttocks.

Kurt’s cry of pain was longer this time, freer.

“Keep going, bitch.”

Kurt was breathing loud now, his resolve crumbling. “There’s nothing to wait for.”

_Thwack!_

“ _Fuck!_ There’s nothing to be but what you want.”

_Thwack!_

“And when I accept that I’m perfect!”

The fifth blow fell in line with the other four and while Kurt cried out his pain Sebastian stepped back to watch the welts swell. Kurt’s ass was always gorgeous, but the marks definitely added to the effect. He had to touch them; he set the cane on the bed and stroked his fingers down the marks like he was strumming the strings of a guitar. A sob forced its way out of Kurt’s chest.

“I’m impressed, bitch. I guess you do listen to me after all. Maybe someday it won’t take a caning to make you admit it."

"You would . . . hate that," Kurt panted.

He was right, Sebastian knew. But he didn't have any intention of admitting it.


	17. Sound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like this one you have to go thank [Sparrow30](http:sparrow30.tumblr.com) because I had no direction on this prompt until she pointed me in this one! She's the reason it's here. :)

“What are you doing?!” Kurt’s cry was barely more than a whisper. He clung to the utility sink to regain his balance as Sebastian locked the door of the janitor’s closed and turned to face him with hungry eyes and a threatening smile.

“Faculty receptions are boring,” Sebastian whispered back, and the smile bloomed into a full-fledged threatening grin.

Kurt’s heart fluttered like a manic butterfly. “You can’t be serious? Your whole department is on the other side of that wall!”

It was true. It was also true that the building must have been constructed in the days before privacy was a concept because Kurt could hear word-for-word conversations from the lounge beyond the wall behind him.

“Then I guess you’d better be very, very quiet.” Sebastian stalked closer, and with the sink at his back Kurt had nowhere to go. “I saw you look at him.”

Sebastian looked gorgeous in the suit Kurt had picked for him. And his light cologne smelled delicious. And it had been several days since he’d had time to fuck Kurt properly. “Wha . . .?” Kurt attempted.

“That intern. He was staring at your crotch. Looking at the bulge. It turned you on.”

“Sebastian!” Kurt hissed as his dom/boyfriend/whatever nosed into the soft skin of his neck. “I haven’t come in months! Everything turns me on. The other day I tried to get hard looking at a suggestively shaped cl . . . cloud . . . oh _fuck_ . . .”

“Shhhhh,” Sebastian pulled away from Kurt’s neck just far enough to whisper.

Clouds were enough to make Kurt whimper. With Sebastian’s body pressed against his and Sebastian’s lips devouring his neck Kurt didn’t stand a chance. “We can’t do this,” he pleaded. “We’ll get caught.”

“The door’s locked.”

“I can hear Dr. Kriley telling someone the entire plot of Guardians of the Galaxy. They’ll hear us.”

“You’ll have to be quiet,” Sebastian whispered again.

“I _can’t!_ ”

Sebastian abandoned Kurt’s neck and grabbed his dick instead, through his trousers, pulling on the cage until Kurt had to press his lips together to keep his whimpers in. “Are you allowed to say that to me?”

Oh, he was fucked. Kurt stared at Sebastian and silently shook his head.

“I think it’s time I remind your ass who it belongs to, _bitch_.”

So, so fucked.

Sebastian didn’t wait for Kurt to comply. He spun him around and bent him over the utility sink, fumbling at the fly of his trousers. His own erection pushed impatiently against the crack of Kurt’s ass and Kurt bit back another moan. This was what he lived for, and it had been days, and why the fuck did it have to be now with Sebastian’s whole department making small talk over cocktails practically inches away?

His belt hit the floor with a _clink_ that pushed Kurt’s heart into his throat, but then there was another zip, another rustle of cloth, and Sebastian’s dick grazed across his hole. Kurt gasped out a soundless moan. “Oh God . . . no . . .” he tried to whisper, but it sounded so much like _Oh God please_ that Kurt wasn’t even sure what words had actually come out of his mouth.

“Give me a break,” Sebastian breathed in his ear. “You’ve been begging me to fuck you for days.”

“Not like this!” Kurt whisper-wailed. But a finger slid into his ass, a slick finger and had Sebastian _prepared_ for this and of course he’d prepared, obviously, and one finger became two and it was good, so fucking good, and Kurt pushed back on them, aching for more.

“Lounging all over the place, _presenting_ yourself, such a desperate cock slut . . .”

Three fingers then four then Sebastian’s perfect cock, teasing his entrance, hot and heavy, and Kurt squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath, forcing himself to remember to be silent.

“Beg me,” Sebastian breathed, pushing forward just far enough to breach Kurt’s hole.

“Please,” Kurt whispered.

“Beg me to take you right here. Beg me to make you my bitch . . .”

“Oh God, _please . . ._ ” Kurt hissed, and Sebastian finally slid inside with deliberate, torturous care. “I am,” he panted, lighter than air, as Sebastian’s dick crept where he needed it to pound and his own began to drip, soft in its cage. “I am your bitch. I need you, _fuck me_ . . .”

“Well since you ask so nicely.”

Really, thoroughly fucked. Literally now, as well as figuratively. Kurt pressed his lips tight together and gripped the edges of the sink as Sebastian pulled out and rocked back into him, perfect speed, perfect angle, just the way he knew drove Kurt the craziest, and Kurt would have prayed, if he believed in anything more powerful than the man who was currently behind him owning his ass. Staying silent was impossible; he couldn’t do it. His voice was his outlet. The pressure of his need, the force of Sebastian’s desire for him, the blunt denial of the steel around his dick, they burned Kurt, slow and red-hot, from the inside out and his voice was the pressure valve. His moans and cries gave him balance and helped him endure what should have been unendurable. He tried, so hard, held his breath and bit his tongue as Sebastian drove into him over and over, but it was impossible and tiny whimpers began to leak through his control.

On the other side of the wall someone laughed.

“Be careful, bitch,” Sebastian bottomed out and froze, wrapping his arms around Kurt’s trembling body and whispering hot and fierce in his ear. “If you get me in trouble for this you’re going to regret it like you’ve never regretted anything in your life. So I advise you to . . . keep . . . quiet.” He punctuated the last two words with shallow thrusts that rocked Kurt hard against the sink then pulled back and fucked him harder than before, and faster, chasing his release at last.

The fire inside Kurt flared hotter as his own pleasure grew and swelled toward that point where he knew it would hang, locked as always in eternal _almost_. Sebastian’s cock speared him over and over, pushing the limits of his self-control. Demanding more and more and ever more, as he always did. But his hand slid up and held Kurt’s throat, gently, a reminder and a support. How his hand could be so gentle when his dick was so punishing was something Kurt didn’t have to ability to even try to understand. The room was spinning and the pleasure was burning, and Kurt held himself still, quiet, somehow. His hands ached where they clutched the sink and he couldn’t breathe and voices from beyond the wall taunted him until it was all too much and Sebastian’s hips were stuttering to a stop and Kurt’s will collapsed under the weight of his need.

But even as Sebastian’s pleasure exploded into Kurt’s body, his hand moved up to cover Kurt’s mouth, stifling the cry he couldn’t contain.

Kurt’s legs collapsed but Sebastian was ready for that and together they slid carefully to the floor of the tiny closet. Sebastian was still panting from his efforts, but the sound juddered against Kurt’s ear and Kurt realized he was, silently, laughing. He turned his face away from Sebastian’s hand to whisper, “Why are you laughing?”

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to do it,” Sebastian whispered back.

Kurt’s head was too heavy so he let it fall back on Sebastian’s strong shoulder. Once it was there it only made sense to turn into Sebastian’s neck to breathe the mingled scents of soft cologne and _him_. “I’m sorry,” he murmured into the warm skin. His nose found Sebastian’s carotid pulse, beating hard. The rhythm of it matched the rushes of need still battering Kurt’s insides, guiding them as it slowed, down toward calm.

“Why?”

It took Kurt a moment to remember what Sebastian was asking. “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t be quiet for you.”

“A good dom is prepared for every eventuality,” Sebastian said. “And, bright side, it gives me something to punish you for later.”

Of course it did, Kurt thought. Like most of his predicaments, it was win/win no matter what happened. For Sebastian. But he couldn’t be bothered to worry about it too much right now because Sebastian’s hands were caressing his belly under his shirt and they hadn’t been caught and Kurt had finally been well and properly fucked.


	18. Sing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I am still doing these! And with any luck I'll actually finish them by December, in time to start this year's. Sigh.
> 
> Okay, so this one is an outright steal. When I actually sat and thought about the prompt "sing" all I could remember was a fic where a dom!Blaine was trying to get sub!Kurt to hit a certain note. I had to rack my brains (so to speak!) to remember what fic that was, but eventually all that racking paid off. It's my guiltiest of pleasures - a fic that's wrong in so many ways but in the end I don't care because it's hot, hot, hot. It's a kink meme fill by a lovely and still anonymous author and you can find it [here.](http://glee-kink-meme.livejournal.com/6968.html?thread=11432760)
> 
> So this is my Kurtbastian homage to that seminal fic from six years ago.

“You know, I knew you were an old-fashioned bitch, but I admit I underestimated how good medieval would look on you.”

Kurt moaned around the ball gag that held his mouth uncomfortably wide.

“I know,” Sebastian agreed. “I should have expected it. The inquisition would have _loved_ you. Wiggle for me.”

Kurt attempted to obey. His fingers moved, and his toes, but nothing between them.

“Perfect,” Sebastian said. He ran his hand lightly up Kurt’s torso, threatening to tickle but not quite delivering. Yet. “I know it feels like you couldn’t possibly stretch any further, but Dan did some very careful calculations and it turns out I can go four or five more turns before I’m in any danger of actually hurting you. Or maybe I should say harming you. It’s going to hurt. In fact, you might say it’s going to be torture.”

Kurt moaned again. Fluid trickled from his soft, caged cock. It tickled his glans as it dripped down through the bars of the cage.

He wasn’t surprised that Sebastian knew someone who owned an authentic replica of a medieval torture rack. Installed in a basement dungeon complete with stone foundations and flickering torches. Nothing Sebastian did surprised him anymore. He _was_ surprised by how helpless the rack made him feel. No other form of bondage had ever left him so immobile. Ropes always had some give, even mummified he could roll and twist. Sebastian expected him to stay still but Kurt always knew even as he offered himself up that if he wanted to he could flinch or pull, find some way to release some of the stress of Sebastian’s torments. But on the rack, pulled to what felt like the limits of his body’s ability to stretch, he was effectively paralyzed. Even his head was held tight by a strap attached to the rough planks. Sebastian could do whatever he wanted and, voluntary or instinctive, there wasn’t anything Kurt could do to stop him.

Sebastian moved to the head of the table where the wheel that controlled the stretch was attached. Kurt whimpered a plea from behind the gag, but he knew Sebastian would ignore it. Sebastian turned the wheel a click tighter and the ache in Kurt’s muscles deepened into a newer, darker agony. His whine opened into a long, singing note.

“Ooh, pretty,” Sebastian crooned. “But I’m really hoping you’ll hit an F before we’re through. It’s in your range. I think you can do it.” He trailed his hand back down Kurt’s chest, over his abdomen, really tickling now and Kurt huffed at the sensation. His body tried to contract under Sebastian’s fingers but his belly only managed the tiniest flutter and the cost was sharp pain that shot through his arms and legs and left him gasping.

The movement, slight as it was, didn't escape Sebastian's notice even in the dim light. “Still a little give, I see. Let’s try one more turn, what do you think?” he asked rhetorically, a twinkle in his eye. He disappeared to the top of the table and pulled the crank again. Behind the gag Kurt sobbed a note that was definitely higher than before.

“Sing out, Louise!” Sebastian taunted. “I know you can do better. You just need the right incentive.”

When Sebastian moved back into Kurt’s line of vision the breath left his body on an even higher pitch than before. From Sebastian’s fingers dangled the tiny key to the tiny lock that kept Kurt’s cock imprisoned.

Kurt’s cock swelled – his Pavlovian response to the sight of the key – and by the time Sebastian reached for it the bars of the cage were already slick with precome. But Sebastian’s fingers were sure and swift and before Kurt could finish his moan his dick was free, hard, and throbbing against his belly.

Kurt couldn’t even lift his head to look at it, and with the rest of his body so immobile, the unrestrained twitching and flexing made his dick feel twice as big as it was and more vulnerable to Sebastian than it had ever been. Long fingers curled around it and stroked, spreading the ample precome up and down his shaft, dragging in long sweet strokes along Kurt’s ever-hungry length.

Sebastian grinned down at him. “This is going to sound crazy,” he said as he teased Kurt’s cock, “but I almost want to let you come. Can you imagine what that would feel like, stretched out like this? All your muscles trying to contract? I bet it would hurt like fuck. It’s very tempting, I have to tell you.”

Sebastian swirled his thumb around the swollen head of Kurt’s cock and Kurt moaned and thrust into the sweet torment . . . or at least he tried to thrust, before bursting pain reminded him that every muscle, nerve and tendon was stretched to the breaking point. His moan burst too, into a cry of pain that came very close to the note Sebastian was waiting for.

“The problem is it’s only been what? Four months? Since the last time I let you come? To give it to you now would just be spoiling you.”

Kurt wanted to beg, despite the gag, despite the fact that he had no idea what he wanted to beg for, but Sebastian’s hand was still wreaking havoc on every nerve ending he possessed and his ass kept trying to push his frustrated dick into the hot friction, sending more pinwheels of pain spinning through his body.

“Although . . .” Sebastian looked down at Kurt like he really was considering, like he didn’t know already exactly what he intended to do, “. . . I could always ruin it. What do you think bitch? A nice ruined orgasm when you’re all stretched out like this? I’m liking this idea. All of the agony with none of the satisfaction.”

Kurt whined and shook his head as much as the strap would allow. But he was helpless, and Sebastian’s hand was already speeding up, pushing him toward the orgasm his body craved. He sucked air around the gag, trying to be still, but knowing he would fail. He was too desperate for release. Instinct was going to take over, was already taking over, the muscles in his ass clenched and he cried out again, wordlessly.

“Oh! Getting closer, bitch! I think you might hit that F yet.”

Tears spilled from the corners of Kurt’s eyes as the orgasm Sebastian wasn’t going to let him have swelled in his balls and his body screamed with pain. Sebastian stripped him lightning fast and Kurt was on the edge in moments, he was always on the edge, then he was tipping over into inevitability and for one incandescent moment he thought Sebastian had forgotten, mistaken the timing, given him one stroke too may. It was going to hurt like hell but he was going to come and the tears fell faster and of course Sebastian whipped his hand away at the exact right moment, leaving Kurt hanging in that place where he felt he would rather die than be left unsatisfied.

Kurt’s body convulsed, fighting the rack to try to force himself over the edge, and he screamed his pain and frustration through the gag as his release dribbled pathetically down onto his belly.

Sebastian watched Kurt struggle, his green eyes dark and sparkling in the torchlight. When Kurt’s cry had faded into quiet sobs he gave Kurt’s still-hard cock a sharp slap. “Way to go, bitch. I think that might actually have been a G. But from the way you wiggled, I think you can take at least two more turns.”

Kurt could only pant around the gag, trying desperately to process the pain and need and frustration Sebastian had set loose in his tortured body. This time when the wheel creaked and the ropes pulled tighter he only had energy to muster a long, low moan.

“Well now you’re going backwards, bitch. I’m pretty sure that was bass clef. But don't worry about it.” Sebastian moved past the table and Kurt heard him fumble in the bag he’d brought. When he stood up Kurt could see the violet wand in his hand, powered up and glowing maliciously.

“I’m expecting an even better encore.”


	19. Decorations

Sebastian took a tour around Kurt, just once, just to enjoy the view from every side as he plotted. Then he turned and opened the jewelry box he kept on top of his dresser.

Behind him Kurt made a tiny noise, hardly more than a whisper, a hitching of breath that anyone else might have completely missed. But when it came to Kurt, Sebastian missed nothing. He prided himself on that.

Collar first, he thought. Not Kurt’s usual one, no, tonight he chose a beautiful silver wire creation, embellished with dozens of faceted crystals. It was tall and heavy and looked like it could have decorated the long, graceful neck of an Edwardian grande dame. Maybe it had, Sebastian thought, it had certainly cost enough. But he knew what the collar would do to Kurt, and what what it did to Kurt would do to _him_ , and really, it was worth every penny.

He turned back to Kurt and held up the collar for him to see. Tiny twitches of shoulder and fingers betrayed Kurt’s feelings, as they always did. Kurt had worn the collar before. He knew how it felt and how it made him feel. He knew from the sight of it just where Sebastian was planning to take him tonight.

Sebastian ignored the twitches and draped the collar around Kurt’s pale neck.

Kurt had more muscles than that Edwardian lady, and an Adam’s apple, and the collar fit tight, just like Sebastian liked it. It challenged Kurt, constricting his throat just that tiny bit and pushing his chin higher than was strictly comfortable. But as Kurt settled into the feel of it Sebastian could see the tension around his eyes start to soften. He lifted his head even more than he needed to, and Sebastian thought he could certainly give any grande dame a run for her money.

“Put your arms out to the side,” Sebastian commanded, and when Kurt obeyed his fingers stretched out in ballet position – another sign that he was letting go. Sebastian caressed up one of Kurt’s arms, right to the base of the collar, just to reward Kurt for his obedience. And maybe because he couldn’t resist stroking the bulge of Kurt’s biceps before he draped both arms with heavy silver bracelets. He went back and forth from the jewelry box, piling them on until they reached halfway to Kurt’s elbows, and those biceps he’d admired before flexed with the effort of keeping suddenly heavy arms in the position Sebastian had dictated. Still, his boy didn’t move, and the blue eyes that silently followed Sebastian’s every move were darkening, going gently unfocused for small stretches as Kurt settled into his headspace.

“You look gorgeous bitch,” Sebastian said. “You’re almost perfect.”

“Almost?” Kurt asked. His voice was soft and open in a way that Sebastian knew from experience meant he was ready to go wherever Sebastian wanted to take him. Desire surged hot through Sebastian’s belly at the sound.

“I got you something new.” Sebastian reached into the jewelry box one more time and turned back with the nipple clamps dangling from his fingers.

Kurt’s eyes widened and for a moment the tension was back, but Sebastian stood still and waited him out, letting him process what he was seeing.

Sebastian loved the new clamps. He’d had them made from a set of art nouveau brooches – instead of weights, enameled Erté ladies hung below the teeth in brilliant gowned and feathered finery.

“Arms down,” Sebastian said.

Kurt obeyed, and the heavy silver on his arms jangled and clanked, startling him.

“Relax, bitch. Suck.” Sebastian presented his thumb to Kurt’s lips and Kurt did as he was told. Sebastian felt Kurt’s tongue swirl around the pad of his thumb, hot and erotic.

Feminization wasn’t Sebastian’s thing, not really. Oh, Kurt was beautiful in his adornments – Sebastian wouldn’t do this if he wasn’t – but his real kink was what the feminization did to Kurt. They didn’t talk about it a lot, but Sebastian thought he understood. There’d been boys like Kurt at his high school too - boys who alternately struggled with and asserted their non-conformity. Feminization frightened Kurt as much as he desired it, which pretty much meant it was like catnip for Sebastian. When Kurt let Sebastian take him down into the things that frightened him, and let himself fall so deeply that Sebastian could have probably made him do anything at all, the trust and desire he displayed made Sebastian want to shout from rooftops that he, and only he, could give this gorgeous bitch what he needed. That or leash Kurt by his chastised cock and walk him through a crowded club while everyone around them turned green with envy. Which he had every intention of doing tonight.

“That’s enough.”

Kurt released Sebastian’s thumb and Sebastian could see the sucking had done the trick. Kurt’s mouth stayed soft, his lips slightly parted. Sebastian smiled at him and stroked his wet thumb over one of Kurt’s nipples until it pushed out from his chest, erect and pebbled. Sebastian quickly clamped the first brooch to Kurt’s nipple, ignoring the gasp of pain as the teeth closed tight over delicate flesh, then treated the other one to the same process. With a swipe of his hand he set the jeweled ladies swinging, then stepped back to admire his creation.

Kurt was flushed a delicate pink, his breathing just starting to hitch in gentle pants. His arms and neck and chest glittered with Sebastian’s jewelry and he was almost . . . almost perfect. Someday, Sebastian thought, he was going to get Kurt into a pair of panties. Silver lace maybe, to match his decorations. Kurt wasn’t quite there yet, Sebastian knew, but when he was, oh, those panties were going to fuck with his head in the best way. Still, this was more than enough. For now.

“Look at yourself, bitch,” Sebastian said, turning Kurt gently to face the full-length mirror. Kurt stood still for a moment, taking in his body draped in beautiful jewelry, then with a long sigh he fell back against the strong support of Sebastian’s chest.

Sebastian stroked up and down Kurt’s torso, from his caged dick to his clamped nipples and back again. “Such a pretty bitch,” he crooned, and wanted to shout again when Kurt’s head fell back on his shoulder. It was the surrender Sebastian had wished for the very first time they’d touched, the one he never, ever took for granted.

“I wish I could take you out on the street just like this,” he whispered against Kurt’s temple. “I’d parade you up and down and everyone would know how completely you’re my bitch. God, I want that so much.”

Kurt moaned, and Sebastian slid his hands down past the cage to fondle his heavy, swollen balls.

“Someday bitch, someday. For now I’ll just have to be content showing everyone at the club what a pretty girl you are.”

Kurt shuddered against Sebastian’s chest, and moaned, and precome slicked Sebastian’s wrist where it rested against Kurt’s cage. He raised his arm to Kurt’s lips and without being told Kurt licked the slick from his master’s skin.

Silver panties for sure, Sebastian thought as Kurt’s tongue washed him clean, and maybe he'd even let Kurt out of the cage so he could show off that gorgeous cock bulging through the lace.

He couldn’t fucking wait.


	20. Floor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I don't think anyone's noticed but I've been trying to alternate POVs in these one-shots, flipping back and forth between Kurt and Sebastian. But then I really needed the rack fic to be Kurt's POV, even though it was Sebastian's turn, so to make it fair we get two in a row in Sebastian's POV. Which I needed for this one! This is short (sorry!) but it's exactly what I wanted it to be.

Sebastian leaned close and brushed a kiss to Kurt’s cheek, then tightened his fingers around the long neck, finally making good on the threat, cutting off Kurt’s air and silencing his harsh gasps.

“It’s only you now, bitch,” he breathed against Kurt’s soft cheek. “No one else could be what you are to me. It’s only ever going to be you.”

His fingers released, and Kurt went down hard, down on the floor, onto the discarded ice pack, dropping to grovel. He moaned as he fucked his cold, limp dick against the ice, mouthing mindlessly at Sebastian’s bare feet.

Sebastian took a breath, and closed his eyes. Only for a moment, three seconds, five at most. It was all he could afford, with Kurt down so deep, but he always took it. He had to. These moments were rare and something inside Sebastian demanded he try to remember every one. If, God forbid, there ever came a time when he couldn’t have this anymore, he wanted this feeling burned into his brain so he could never forget that he had once held such profound trust in his hands. Nothing he had ever experience had prepared him for how it felt to be the man – the only man – who could both push Kurt hard enough that he could reach this place and make him feel safe enough to surrender to his deepest, darkest needs. No one else had ever given Kurt this kind of release, that much Sebastian knew, and the thought that someday someone else might made Sebastian feel like the Incredible Hulk was trying to burst its way out from under his skin in full Technicolor green fury. No, what he’d said was right. Kurt was his. Kurt had to be only his, always.

He opened his eyes, reluctantly, but reluctance evaporated at the sight of Kurt’s lithe back arching and rounding, undulating like a cat in heat as he licked at Sebastian’s feet. Finally pushed past the shoulds and musts, Kurt was stunning in his debasement, lost and unselfconscious, showing Sebastian a side of himself that no one else – _no one,_ Sebastian insisted to himself – would ever be allowed to experience. When Kurt went to this place his entire universe condensed to only two things – his own need, and Sebastian. That he was half of that equation left Sebastian as breathless as he’d made Kurt, up against the door.

Kurt’s fingers curled tight around Sebastian’s ankles. He rutted the floor and sucked at Sebastian’s toes. He whined as he writhed and worshipped. He never talked to Sebastian about where he went in these moments, but Sebastian liked to believe that despite his body’s gyrations, Kurt’s head was quiet and at completely at peace. For once. Maybe someday he’d persuade Kurt to tell him. But every time he even came close to bringing it up Kurt blushed furious red and refused to speak. Part of Sebastian wished that Kurt’s conscious mind could appreciate this as much as his subconscious, but most of him realized that the fight to overcome his own resistance was a fundamental part of who Kurt was. And there really was nothing about Kurt that Sebastian would ever change.

He had to watch closely now, because the timing was crucial. Sebastian could have basked in Kurt’s worship for hours but that was not who his bitch was. Sebastian's goal was always to catch the moment just before Kurt became too aware of himself, to give him as much as he needed but pull him up before it became too much. He always wanted to leave Kurt wanting more. He took another moment to watch the ass he fully intended to destroy – first with his leather strap then with his cock – undulate against the floor, waiting for the sign that Kurt had had almost enough.

It was a feeling he got, when the moment came. Nothing about Kurt’s demeanor changed; his body still moved as it had all along, he still moaned and nuzzled at Sebastian’s feet. It was a sensation, inside, like the barometer dropping before a storm, a sea change in Sebastian’s head that told him it was time. A rhythm between them that was part of their innate chemistry. When it came, he dropped to the floor himself and tugged Kurt up by the shoulders. Kurt whined at being pulled away from Sebastian’s feet, but when he raised his eyes to meet his master’s, they were soft and full of gratitude and Sebastian knew he’d timed it perfectly. Sebastian let himself reflect his own emotions back at Kurt, naked and exposed in his turn, but only for a moment. Then he twisted his lips into the evil smirk that always drove Kurt wild.

“Bedroom, bitch.”


	21. Move

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to get this out before I have to go out for wine tasting! Because after wine I'll never get it done. So I hope it's okay! ;)

“Please . . .”

“Please what, bitch?”

“ _Move._ ”

“No.”

Sebastian pulled Kurt closer, spooned him tighter, but that was all. His dick, sheathed deep in Kurt’s ass, didn’t move. “Just let yourself feel it bitch,” he murmured against the back of Kurt’s neck. “Relax.”

Kurt wanted to. He was exhausted, strung out, high on pain and endorphins. His ass and shoulders burned against the heat of Sebastian’s body. He was going to hurt so, so much in the morning, but now he vibrated like his body was full of bees, buzzing in his head and everywhere else. Sebastian’s cock filled him, teasing the oblivion he longed for, but motionless – a tease was all it was. Kurt pressed his lips together and forced himself to obey, but the effort of doing nothing filled his eyes with frustrated tears.

Sebastian had been on a mission tonight, driving Kurt toward some destination only he knew. He’d bound Kurt to the padded bench and whipped him with the heavy flogger for what felt like hours, dragging him through the cycle of pain/pleasure/frustration/transcendence over and over and over again. Kurt had yelled until he had no voice, cried until he had no tears. If his cock had been free he would have come, he knew, time after time, untouched, until he was dry. And when Kurt’s brain had broken down to the point where all he could do was beg to be fucked, hard, fast, _please_ . . . Sebastian had untied him and laid him out on the bed like the most precious of treasures. He’d turned off all the lights, curled his warm, hard body around Kurt’s like a cocoon, and slid his cock – so slick Kurt could hardly feel it move – deep inside him. And then . . . nothing.

“Please,” Kurt whispered in the dark. “I’m so close.”

Not to orgasm, they both knew Kurt didn’t mean that. Close to drowning his need in Sebastian’s pleasure. Close to the excruciating release-without-release that only Sebastian’s cock could give him. Close – and this was so rare but Kurt knew he was there, tonight – to feeling his seed pushed out of his imprisoned cock with each hard thrust, pooling on the sheets beneath him like the ultimate validation of his place in the universe. His balls throbbed with it and his prostate swelled against Sebastian’s cock.

Sebastian dragged fingers still slick with lube down the plane of Kurt’s chest and back up again. He slid them over one nipple then the other in languid strokes that made Kurt feel like his muscles were melting. Kurt moaned as he slipped closer to letting go.

“God, I love this.” Sebastian’s breath was hot on Kurt’s neck. “You . . . like this. I can feel you trembling. Inside, I mean. I can feel you trembling around my cock.”

“Please . . .” It was all Kurt had left.

“Shhhh.” Sebastian’s fingers dipped down again, stroked Kurt’s groin alongside the cage, then fondled his oh-so-hard balls, rolling them in slow slides against each other. “Breathe. You know I’ll get you there.”

“Sometimes you don’t,” Kurt dared to murmur, because it was dark and because Sebastian’s voice was soft as watered silk in his ear. “Sometimes you make me stay like this and I don’t know . . . tonight . . . if I can take it.”

“You don’t need me to get you there,” Sebastian said. “Just let go.”

“I don’t know how.”

“Don’t give me that. After all this time?” Sebastian’s slick fingers found Kurt’s soft, streaming cock through the bars of the cage and stroked one tiny patch of skin, with infinite delicacy, like touching the wing of a butterfly. “You’re right there. _Feel_ it. I can feel it – rushing under your skin. Fall in. Let it have you.”

Kurt’s world began to shrink, down, down to that one finger caressing his long-imprisoned cock, down to the dick holding space in his ass, to how much he wanted . . . wanted . . . but it was too dark and Sebastian was everywhere, and he couldn’t remember what he wanted. And he fell.

No, he grew, he expanded, his head lolled back against Sebastian’s and though he couldn’t have said he’d moved at all he _opened_ , unfolded like that butterfly escaping a chrysalis. Slowly, stretching things that had been tightly furled for far too long, one fold at a time until he was left two-dimensional, taking up no space. And it wasn’t like coming, not at all, and it wasn’t the release of being fucked, it was something new, something that came entirely from _him_. Time stood still and pleasure bloomed like hothouse flowers, obscenely bright, and Sebastian chuckled against his skin and there was only one thing in the world he wanted.

“Please,” he whispered from far away.

“Please what, beautiful bitch?”

“ _Don’t move.”_

And of course, in a burst of motion, Sebastian flipped Kurt over onto his stomach, still inside him, far too heavy on top of him, and whispered one last time against Kurt’s skin before he fucked him into oblivion.

“As if.”


	22. Performance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a looong time so I'm giving you guys an extra long ficlet. If we're all lucky, I'll finish Advent 2016 before 2018! I hope you all enjoy . . .

“That was fantastic, bitch.”

Coming down from an orgasm while watching Kurt tremble on floor at his feet was definitely one of Sebastian’s favorite ways to end a day. He leaned back on his elbows on the bed and drank in the sight of his naked, panting bitch.

“Thank you.” Kurt’s voice was rough with use and breathy from effort.  Sebastian didn’t know whether he was grateful for the load – Sebastian’s second of the day – or for the compliment, and he was way too sated to care.

“You can use the bathroom first.” He grinned down at Kurt. “I think I need a minute to recover.”

But Kurt didn’t try to get up. He looked up at Sebastian with an expression he’d been wearing most of the day. Like he had something to say but couldn’t figure out how to say it.

“You’re not getting fucked tonight,” Sebastian said, taking his best guess. He wiggled his floppy penis for emphasis. “That much should be obvious.”

“I know . . .” Kurt breathed, letting the words hang with an upward inflection, like a question.

“If you want something you know you’re going to have to ask for it,” Sebastian said. “And I’d make it good if I were you. Because you wrung me out and all I want right now is to brush my teeth and then sleep like the dead. It’s going to take a lot to convince me to do anything else.”

Kurt stared at him and Sebastian could hear the wheels turning behind those blue eyes. It was always such a struggle for Kurt to beg and Sebastian had as much as told him only the best begging would do.

And then something wonderful happened.

Kurt closed his eyes and took a breath. When he opened them again they flashed with something new. He reached for Sebastian’s knees, scooted himself closer, and looked up from under coy, fluttery lashes. His lips curved in a smile that should not have been as provocative as it was. “ _Master_ . . .”

Sebastian’s post-orgasm languor made a hasty exit.

Kurt didn’t perform often, not with Sebastian. Sometimes when they were out at a club and Sebastian really pushed him Kurt would fall into a character to try to distance himself from the things he was being made to do. But when it was just them, Kurt was almost always himself. And Sebastian liked that. He liked that every moan and whimper and _oh God please_ was completely real and completely earned. He did.

But the way Kurt was looking at him right now, like the world’s most willing, perfect slave, was fucking hot.

“Tell me what you want bitch.”

Kurt managed to bow his head in a perfect imitation of abject contrition, while still keeping his eyes locked with Sebastian’s. “I know you won’t fuck me. You’ve come twice today already and . . . I don’t deserve it anyway. You know I fucked up in the kitchen before . . .”

Sebastian was certain there hadn't been any fuck up in the kitchen. “I still haven’t forgiven you for that.”

“I know, Master. Which is why I thought . . .” his head tilted, shy, alluring, “. . . if it pleases you . . . maybe you should punish me?”

Sebastian laughed. “Is that why you’ve been posing that ass in front of me all day like a desperate slut?” he asked, dropping character to grin at Kurt. “Are you looking to get spanked?”

“It’s been a long time . . .”

“And you’re _so_ horny,” Sebastian teased.

Kurt used Sebastian’s knees to push himself up off the floor. With Sebastian sitting on the bed, Kurt had to lean down to whisper against Sebastian’s ear.

“I’m always horny. You keep me on such a short leash. Always aching for you.”

“Like a good master should.”

“Like the best master. The one I deserve.”

“Are we still pretending this is punishment?”

“It’s whatever you say it is. You’re the master. I’m only here to obey you.”

“Oh god, you,” Sebastian wrapped a hand around Kurt’s neck and lifted his head up and away, “are much too good at this.”

“So spank me for that. _Please_.”

Sebastian shook his head but he could see in Kurt’s eyes that he already knew he’d won. “This is completely irresponsible of me and I’m totally spoiling you,” he hopped off the bed and pushed past Kurt to pull open their special dresser drawer, “but I do have that new paddle I need to break in –”

“Master!”

Sebastian turned back. Kurt’s expression had changed. There was a little less Academy-Award-winning performance of submission and a little more . . . _Kurt_ . . . bleeding through. The combination was so provocative that Sebastian’s drained cock actually attempted to rally.

Kurt moved like a dancer across the room until they were close again, until his caged dick brushed against Sebastian’s semi. He slipped one hand into Sebastian’s and raised them, together, to press in between their chests.

“What do you want now, bitch?”

“Your hand, instead of the paddle,” Kurt said, licking his bottom lip with one teasing flick. “I thought, if it pleases you, it’s been so long since you did that. And I love it so much.”

“Why should I hurt my hand hurting you? When I have this nice new paddle?”

Kurt opened his hand and rubbed his palm against Sebastian’s. His eyes were dark and intense. “Because nothing makes me burn the way this does. Please. Make me burn.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow at him. “I’ll make a deal with you. You take ten of my best with the paddle, and then when that ass is nice and hot and painful, I’ll give you ten with my hand.” He stroked the fingers of his free hand down Kurt’s back and along his crack, light as feathers, and the shudder that followed in their wake was all Kurt.

But the performance wasn’t over. “Oh, God, thank you Master,” Kurt breathed, the fantasy submissive again.

“Face down on the bed. I’ll even be nice and let you hump the mattress if you want.”

Kurt was gone in a trice, spreading himself on the bed with his back arched in a graceful curve that lifted his ass high, like an offering.

Sebastian didn’t bother with warm-up. If Kurt was desperate enough to put on this kind of an act then he was ready for – and obviously needed – full throttle. The first ten brutal blows coaxed his pale ass from white to pink to angry blood-moon red. After the second hit Kurt turned his head to seek out Sebastian’s eyes, and his own swam with tears before the last blow fell, but he didn’t make a single sound. By the time the paddle’s last swat echoed away in the room Sebastian could already see bruises starting to form at the peak of each round swell. Kurt was gasping and trembling but there was a hunger in his eyes that took Sebastian’s breath away.

“I don’t know,” Sebastian said, pretending to consider, “it’s pretty late. Maybe we should just –”

“ _Sebastian,”_ Kurt pleaded, and the last pretense fell away, leaving just Kurt, his bitch, gasping his need. “Please. Please. Let me feel you. I was good for you. God, _please._ ” He arched his back harder, pushing his ass as high as he could.

Fantasy sub may have been hot, but this was the Kurt Sebastian truly couldn’t resist. He raised his hand and gave it everything he had.

The ten blows passed too quickly. Kurt shuddered and moaned after each fall of Sebastian's hand, sounding every single time like he was having the best orgasm of his life. Maybe he was, Sebastian thought, maybe, in his mind. Sebastian’s palm stung fiercely but that only made him smack harder, aiming for the bruises, and he wondered if that was what made this so powerful for Kurt – that they shared the pain, that Sebastian was willing to hurt himself more to hurt Kurt more. On the fourth smack the tears overflowed Kurt’s eyes but his face was still pleasure-transported, and honestly, it was so much hotter than any fantasy slave performance, knowing that this was one hundred percent Kurt, one hundred percent what _his_ touch did to his bitch.

When it was over Sebastian lifted his hand away and shook it in the air with a wincing, “Shit!”

Watching him Kurt whimpered, “Oh, fuck,” and finally took advantage of the permission to hump the bed, rubbing his caged cock furiously, like Sebastian’s pain had snapped his final thread of self-control.

Sebastian smiled to himself. His bitch wasn’t the only one who could put on a performance.


	23. Agony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly don't even know what I've written! I'm going stream of consciousness to try to get these babies finished! I feel like my prose is getting unbearably purple, but hey, if you can't wax rhapsodic about orgasm denial, what the fuck can you wax rhapsodic about?! It's also way too fucking long, but like I said, orgasm denial. ;)

“How long bitch?” Sebastian asked as he drew the blindfold tight around Kurt’s head.

“Sixty days,” Kurt answered He stretched his fingers out along the arms of the chair Sebastian had bound him to and tried to bring his hammering heart under control. He had just as much luck with that as ever, which was exactly none.

Sixty days. It seemed like an impossibly huge number. Sixty days since the day Sebastian had made him his. Sixty days since he’d last seen his dick, or touched it. Sixty days wound tighter and tighter without the tiniest hope of release.

“I have a surprise for you today,” Sebastian said from behind him. “You’ve been so good these past two months that I think you deserve a treat.”

He wasn’t going to get to come, Kurt silently warned his throbbing dick. He’d learned at great cost that Sebastian’s idea of a treat and his own were two very different things.

Sebastian’s lips teased around Kurt’s ear then skated down the warm skin of his neck and God if that didn’t always make Kurt slide into loose pliancy, no matter how tense and desperate he was. “Two months,” Sebastian whispered against the spot on his jaw that sent shivers chasing down Kurt’s spine.

Two months.

The first few weeks of Kurt’s training had been all deprivation, at least as far as his dick was concerned. It had been locked away and as good as forgotten, never touched, not even spoken of during the long first month of learning how his new master wanted him to kneel, to present, to suck and be fucked. Mastering rules and enduring punishments and never once had Sebastian so much as touched it, he’d only ever referenced it to reinforce to Kurt that his dick was irrelevant. _It has to learn its place,_ Sebastian would whisper hot in Kurt’s ear. _The rules have changed. Slave cocks were made to suffer. And don’t forget to lick up that mess you made._

Kurt spent a lot of that first month with his tongue on the floor.

And then, just when Kurt had accepted that maybe Sebastian would never let him out of his steel prison, he’d found himself spread-eagle on the bed, blindfolded, with fingers jostling the cage for the first time in weeks as Sebastian inserted the key and worked the metal away from Kurt’s rapidly expanding cock.

It seemed ridiculous, now, looking back, how certain Kurt had been that after the longest month of his life he was finally going to get to come.

The second month, Sebastian had informed him, was about pain. _It has to learn –_ the words seared through his skin into Kurt’s very soul – _that just because it’s free doesn’t mean it won’t suffer._ The second month had taught Kurt that he’d never really understood pain at all. His cock was flogged, clamped, coated in hot wax and zapped with all manner of electric devices. When it came to cock torture, Sebastian was an endless font of inspiration. Yet no matter what new agony he inflicted, Kurt’s dick always sprung up to greet him, so eager, as his nimble fingers pulled the cage away. And it stayed hard, presenting, no matter how much Kurt moaned and sobbed and eventually begged for mercy.

A bright metallic _clink_ brought Kurt back to the present, and his dick surged against the cage. It knew that sound as well as he did. Sebastian was dangling the key, letting it bang against the steel bars.

“Should I let you out for while?” Sebastian asked.

“Yes. Please.”

Sebastian laughed. “It never ceases to amaze me how eager you are to have this cage off,” he said as he slipped the key into the lock, “when you know I’m just going to torture you until you cry then ice you down and lock you back up.”

The jostling of the cage as Sebastian pulled the lock free left Kurt too breathless with arousal to answer. Fortunately, Sebastian didn’t seem to expect a response.

“But I have a surprise for you today. The month of pain is over. Today’s all about pleasure.”

 _Not an orgasm,_ Kurt reminded himself as precome drooled from his slit, _not an orgasm._ The whole point of the past two months had been to teach him never to expect anything but pain and frustration. Even pleasure could be pain, he knew that. Especially when Sebastian was the one dishing it out.

“Such a gorgeous cock. It suffers so beautifully for me.”

“Please . . .”

"I bet it's dying to be stroked."

“Please . . .” Kurt begged again. He knew it didn’t matter. Sebastian was going to do what Sebastian wanted to do. But it had been so long and everything in him ached for one gentle touch.

When Sebastian’s fingers wrapped around his shaft Kurt moaned a sound he was sure he’d never made before. Deep and long, it grew as Sebastian slid his hand – his slippery hand, he’d coated himself with lube and the slide was indescribable – up Kurt’s iron-hard dick, so starved for any kind of pleasure after weeks of brutal punishment. His slick fingers stopped just short of the head – denying Kurt that ultimate sensation – and Kurt’s body twisted against the ropes that held him and cried out as Sebastian’s hand fell away.

“No, please, more, please just one more . . .”

“Oh, I’m going to do so much better than that, bitch.”

The hand came back and this time it kept going up Kurt’s shaft and over the swollen, yearning head of his cock, spreading the slippery lube over hot flesh, and Kurt’s throat closed tight, his head fell back and tears pricked under his eyelids. Down Sebastian’s hand slid, and up again, not stopping this time, stroking long and slow and it was much too much. After months of isolation and pain Kurt’s dick was too sensitive; the slightest touch was agonizing in its intensity of pleasure. He wanted to beg for mercy and for more. He wanted to fuck into the slow tease of Sebastian’s fist but he was bound too tightly to the chair to do more than wiggle impotently. Sebastian laughed at that.

“Is it too much? Want me to stop?”

“No, please . . .” Kurt breathed.

“Want to come?”

Kurt stopped breathing.

Sebastian’s hand stopped stroking. His thumb slid up over the head of Kurt’s cock and circled the slit, like it was nothing. Like he wasn’t burning Kurt alive from the inside out.

“You can come, bitch. If you want to.”

The unspoken word hung between them. Kurt wasn’t sure how much time passed – he was too dizzy from the relentless circling of that thumb to tell – before he finally spoke it out loud.

“But?”

Sebastian laughed. “See? You have learned something from these past two months.”

The stroking resumed, still slow and loose but Kurt could feel himself drifting closer to release than he’d been since the day he’d first walked into this apartment, full of bravado, equal parts terrified and excited.

“But, if you choose to come we start all over again. A month in the cage with no release. A month of pain. Then we can try this little test again.”

Kurt groaned. Of course. Of course it was a test. “What if I don’t come?” Just speaking the possibility sent shivers of excitement through Kurt’s body even as his brain screamed denial.

Sebastian’s palm swept over the head of Kurt’s cock, forcing a cry from his throat, and his fist tightened to give him _more_ , more friction, more unbearable pleasure, more pressure building in Kurt’s balls, seeking release.

“If you don’t come then the fun begins. I can edge you like this every day if I want to. Stroking and teasing and winding you up so tight you feel like you’re going to explode. So much pleasure, bitch. Think about it. Day after day after day. Think about how much you’ll ache every night when I lock you back up after I’m done with you.”

Kurt couldn’t think. Sebastian’s hand slid like water, burned like fire, held everything Kurt had ever wanted or needed in its blissful glide. It had been so long, two months of pain and lessons and punishment. And he’d been _good_ , he had. He’d given Sebastian every single thing he’d asked for.

“Oh fuck, I’m so close. Please.”

“Not my problem, bitch. I only stop if you beg me to.” Sebastian sped up again, tightened, driving Kurt with purpose now. “Of course, if you do tell me to stop, who knows when I’ll give you a chance to come again? And I’ll obviously have to punish you for turning down my generous gift. But at least you’ll have this, sometimes, when I feel like it.”

Kurt couldn’t make sense of it all. Sebastian’s words jumbled in his head, trying to put themselves together between the waves of pleasure flowing through him after so many weeks of pain, pain and more pain. He couldn’t think but he could feel: Sebastian’s hand, warm and strong, slick and giving, and he knew he could never give it up again. He could endure anything but the loss of this touch.

Something inside him broke, not with a snap but with a gentle, delicate pull, like plucking a harp string or breaking a kiss. Kurt’s body went lax in the chair. There would be no more straining or striving. The emotion that blocked his throat dissolved and there were no more cries or moans. He simply let himself feel.

Sebastian, sensing change, slowed his stroking, lengthened his passes, twisted his palm over the head on each pass. He gave Kurt exactly what Kurt couldn’t live without. And Kurt let himself drift through the pleasure like a visitor in his own body. He didn’t reach or ask. He felt his orgasm swell like it was happening to someone else, maybe to Sebastian, Sebastian was the one who was allowed to come, of course, but Kurt at least was allowed this. To watch. To feel – almost – everything. And even though it felt like it might break him, almost everything was everything.

It couldn’t last forever, even with Sebastian drawing it out. Eventually the edge loomed too close, the pleasure too acute. And yet Kurt still felt that curious detachment as he whispered, “Please.  I’m so close. Stop. Please.”

Sebastian gradually slowed his stroke until he was just holding Kurt’s throbbing dick, keeping him right on the edge with practiced ease. His thumb made one last dragging pass over Kurt’s slit and then his hand was gone.

Without Sebastian’s touch, the enormity of what Kurt had done slammed into his chest and a sob broke in his throat. He began to shake, violently, rocking the chair as he cried but Sebastian pressed against him, stilling him against the wood. One hand cradled Kurt’s head while the other slid around his waist and held him as tight as he could in this odd position. Lips brushed Kurt’s temple, his hair, they moved against his cheek.

“My perfect, perfect bitch. God, I push you so hard and you take every bit of it. How am I ever going to survive you?”

Kurt couldn’t have answered if he’d wanted to. He was still crying, shaking, his cock was still throbbing and riding much too close to the edge. He pressed his face to Sebastian’s and begged silently for a kiss and when Sebastian’s lips took his and Sebastian’s tongue pressed deep it was, like his need, like his life, like everything, far too much and not nearly enough.

It was agony.


	24. Adoration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh. My. God. It's done. One advent down, one to go! Yeesh!
> 
> I'm kind of proud of this one. I'm just going to say that right out. And thanks to all of you for sticking with this exercise in frustration! <3

When Kurt woke up everything was dark and silent. As dark and silent as New York ever got, which meant shadows played across the bedroom walls as cars passed on the street below and the whines of sirens and roars of overcharged engines were fainter, drifting into their relatively quiet neighborhood from the heart of the city.

He was thirsty, so he slipped carefully out of bed, wincing as battered muscles complained, and made his way to the kitchen for some water. That was allowed. Sebastian always wanted him to take care of himself, especially after they’d played hard. If he had a dollar for every time Sebastian had intoned _when you feel thirsty you’re already dehydrated,_ well, he’d have a lot more scarves and Sebastian would have a lot fewer nipple clamps.

He smiled at his own little joke, and headed back to bed.

But he stopped in the doorway. He couldn’t help himself.

Sebastian had spread out in his absence, head turned toward Kurt’s pillow, comforter riding low over his hips. The lights outside their window dappled his long torso and soft, lovely cock with odd patterns that made him look cut-out and vulnerable. Kurt drifted closer to the bed, staring. He slid onto the mattress and lay down, hugging the edge.

Why did it feel strange, surreal, here in the dark, to think that he shared this bed with this man? That he had almost every night for more than two years? He watched Sebastian’s broad chest rise and fall with slow, sleeping breaths whose sound was no louder than a gentle breeze rustling soft leaves. In sleep Sebastian looked younger than he did when awake, and open, like he couldn’t possibly be hiding any secrets under that beautiful exterior. But everyone had secrets, didn’t they?

Sebastian sighed and his lips parted, and Kurt couldn’t help himself. It was against the rules – short of the need to safeword, he was forbidden from doing anything to wake his sleeping master. But Sebastian’s bottom lip shone in the streetlight, its rounded swell an unexpected softness in a face built of flat planes and sharp angles. Kurt had to touch it. He allowed himself one sweep of a thumb, lighter than air, across that lip that had touched him in every secret place he possessed. In its cage his dick swelled, just a little, responding to his daring. But Sebastian didn’t stir.

Kurt settled back on his pillow, still watching Sebastian sleep, and asked himself the question that had plagued him so often lately.

Was he in love?

He worshipped Sebastian. Often literally. He longed for his touch. He craved the things Sebastian did to him. He trusted Sebastian with his life, also literally. Sebastian knew him in ways that no other human being on the planet ever had and the intensity of their intimacy could sear Kurt like live wires on raw nerves, like staring into a supernova.

But was that love?

And was it even possible to know, lying here with his dick caged and plugged, unable to so much as relieve himself without Sebastian’s permission? Even now Kurt’s balls throbbed their incessant background ache, and his shoulders burned where the flogger had worked them over and his obediently soft dick tingled, as it always did, with frustrated desire. How in the world was it possible to know which of his emotions were real and which a product of the horny, hormonal soup Sebastian kept him simmering in day after week after month? And who could say whether their overwhelming intimacy was _them_ , or simply who Sebastian was as a dominant? It wasn’t as if Kurt had much – or any – experience with the ways of other strict doms. Maybe – the thought made Kurt want to vomit – Sebastian would have the exact same kind of connection with anyone he dominated. Maybe there was nothing singular about it at all.

How was he supposed to _know_?

Was it all about being master and slave? If Kurt wasn’t submissive, or Sebastian dominant, would he even be lying here wishing those long arms would wrap around him and pull him close? Was there any mirror he could look into to truly understand himself?

He sighed and smiled ruefully at the man sleeping beside him. Sebastian was his mirror. He’d learned more about himself in these two years with Sebastian than he ever had alone, trying to push away all the terrible cravings that haunted his dreams. Which meant Kurt was no closer to an answer than he’d ever been. Because Sebastian’s mirror was dark and curved in all the wrong places and only made it harder for Kurt to separate his feelings from his needs.

Still, he was fucking gorgeous, Kurt thought as he watched. He allowed himself one more touch, fingers to Sebastian’s wrist where he could feel the pulse of life force beat just under his skin. Eventually its slow and steady rhythm pulled Kurt down into sleep again.

*     *     *     *     *

When Sebastian woke up thin, gray predawn light was just beginning to fill up the room, coming from everywhere and nowhere, and he could hear six different garbage trucks making their way through the early morning streets and a tiny whistle of breath from the man sleeping next to him. He rolled, putting his back to the street noise and his face toward the whistle.

Kurt lay on his side, facing Sebastian, like he couldn’t help orienting toward him even in his sleep. One arm curled under his head, a child's pose, although _childlike_ was a word he would normally never apply to Kurt. The weird light made his fair skin seem even paler, his hair darker, a contrast that left him looking not quite real. His lips were softly pursed, just enough to catch his exhale in that tiny noise, and Sebastian smiled to think how it would mortify Kurt to know he was next door to snoring.

God he loved this man.

He loved him with the same savage intensity that drove every feeling he had about Kurt, every choice he made and every action he took. How could he not? The trust, the complete, utter, terrifying _faith_ Kurt had in him, the way he broke himself open for Sebastian day after day, always coming back for more – it wasn’t possible to receive that kind of adoration for months and years and not want to adore in return, to tie Kurt down and devour him and whisper his devotion until Kurt dropped that final barrier and whispered back.

But Sebastian remained silent.

Because Kurt somehow managed to be an unreadable open book, a breathtakingly honest dissembler, a lover who would lay out every thought and feeling except the one Sebastian longed for most. Because they had been from day one master and slave, dominant and submissive, and their contract addressed every possible type of physical interaction in precise detail but didn’t say a word about feelings. Sebastian had no idea if Kurt even wanted that kind of emotion to be part of his submissive landscape. It was easy for Sebastian as the dominant to know he loved the man who knelt for him, and craved his touch, and offered him almost everything he was. But it had to be different for Kurt, who’d struggled all this life with the things he desired. In their two years together Kurt had opened himself to so much, was it even fair to ask him for more? To love the man who controlled and tormented and punished him with such unrelenting ferocity? Was it even possible?

Kurt shifted on his pillow and his lips softened, stilling the whistle at last. A line formed as his brows pulled together; maybe he was dreaming of some torment Sebastian had inflicted. Sebastian’s fingers itched to touch the tiny wrinkle and rub it back to smoothness. It was his right of course – Kurt’s body belonged to him. But he held back. He’d pushed Kurt hard yesterday and he knew Kurt had an important presentation at the studio today. He needed rest. Better to leave him to his dreams.

Losing Kurt was not an option. Just the thought made Sebastian’s heart clench like Kurt’s denied balls. Sebastian would do anything – literally – to keep Kurt here in his bed and his life. And if that meant not speaking one little truth, then silence was his only option. He knew Kurt, in electron-microscope detail, and he had no trouble believing that those three little words were the one hard limit Kurt possessed. The only limit Sebastian wasn’t willing to push.

So he contented himself with knowing he had every part of Kurt that Kurt was willing to give. And with lying here in the creeping dawn watching his eyelashes flutter as he dreamed. And with shaping his lips silently around words he didn’t dare whisper out loud.

And, for now, it was enough.


End file.
